Excuse Me?
by EmeraldEyez1728
Summary: I think it was a bad omen when I asked the bus driver to go over 40 and he threatened to break my finger if I ever poked him again. So here I am driving head on into camp 'o crap. why, you ask? Because my aunt is the warden. oh yea,summers gonna be fun
1. Hell Hole

**A/N: wow. Holes. I haven't written a Holes fanfic in just about forever. (don't waste your time checking on my profile for a link to the other story that has to do with Holes, I deleted it because it was utter crap). So yes, here's sort of a plot bunny that has been haunting me ever since I saw the movie again yesterday on Starz. I dunno, I thought I'd have some fun. Just as a side thing, I guess. Enjoy ).**

**Disclaimer: Oh yeah, it's not mine. **

**Excuse Me? **

**1. Hell-hole**

"Summer with Aunt Lou, are you kidding!? I haven't been there since I was, like, eight and she made me dig holes! Big ones! That were…large and stuff…." I trailed off lamely. Pleading my case with my mother wasn't going over so well. I was pretty much drowning.

Actually, no, I was dead. I'm really not even sure why I continued speaking; it was really a total waste of breath. But I was stubborn, and didn't really care how much they refused; I wasn't going to go down quietly!

"You're going."

Really?

"Why?" I whined as I buried my head in my crossed arms on the kitchen table. My mother got up and put her coffee cup in the sink and began rinsing it off.

I was aware of the fact that I was sounding like a brat. An obnoxious, immature brat, actually. But, still, I didn't care.

"Because I said so." She turned the water off. Sure, easy for her to say. She didn't have to spend her summer in the blistering 108 degree heat. I gave my mother a withering look.

"You're an evil woman," I told her. She smiled at me and pulled her red hair off of her neck and quickly arranged it into a messy bun on top of her head. My mom and Aunt Lou looked a lot alike—they both had red, curly hair that fell in their hazel eyes the same way, their noses were cute and turned up and they had freckles that covered every inch of their fair skin.

I didn't inherit the hair or the eyes, the skin tone or the freckles. I got tan skin, green eyes, and brown hair. If you took one look at me, you wouldn't even figure that I was related to them.

Go figure.

"Sweetie, you don't know what evil is." She sat down again and 'lovingly' stroked my hair.

Lovingly. Psh.

If she loved me so much, she wouldn't send me there.

"Yeah I do. It's called 'Camp Green Lake'. And you're related to the owner of that hell-hole. And you're sending me there. All of this implies evil." I buried my head again, not wanting to look up. Not wanting to face the fact that the woman who is sitting across from me, currently petting me as though I were a dog, is sending me to "the hell-hole".

When I say hell-hole, I literally mean hell _hole_. Camp Green Lake is covered in holes. Absolutely covered. That's what the campers have to do—dig holes. Not the kindergarten holes that you dig when you're five and think you can reach China. No. Those are sandbox holes. Those are the friendly holes that you dig witha little plastic shovel and a pail to put your dirt in.

These are mean holes. These are big holes. These are five feet in diameter, and five feet deep.

Yeah.

It's a fun drive down there, now that I think about it. Considering that there's no road, it's an absolute joy. You should try it. Oh, but make sure that you take a really good car too, not some crappy Ford. Take a BMW.

That would be fun to watch.

Anyway, I could tell by now that there was no way I was getting out of this. I was spending summer at Camp Green Lake. Juvenile delinquent camp. Texas detention center. Hell on earth.

And I didn't even _do _anything.

Well, except be the niece of the owner.

"Mother Fu—"

My mother raised her eyebrow at me. "Excuse me?"

"Fudge. It's what I was going to say, I swear." My tone was flat. I looked innocently at my mother and she rolled her eyes at me.

I lie a lot. I should stop that.

**X-X-X**

She doesn't even bother to drive me down there. That's what gets me. She doesn't drive me down there to see what type of environment she's putting me in. She makes me take the friggen bus. You know, the one that the rapists and murderers sit on.

Yeah. That's the one.

What a great mom I have.

She sees me off, though. She waves and says, "Don't worry, honey, it's not _that_ bad."

Psh.

Look, don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't love my Aunt Lou. I do. She's fun, actually, once you get past the tough exterior and the fact that I have to dig a hole for her every week. But then, she has to be tough on the boys that she's dealing with.

My mom and her grew up on this camp ground. Grandpa opened it up. Aunt Lou, being the lucky older sister that she is, inherited the family business and Mom left and got married. I feel bad for Aunt Lou, actually. Sometimes I sort of think that she was forced into running the business. Wouldn't she like to get married and start a family one day, or something?

Whatever. Aunt Lou doesn't really seem to care much for that sort of thing, I guess. She always seems like she's trying to achieve something, though. I've yet to discover what it is.

Oh well. If she doesn't feel like sharing life-long goals, I'm perfectly okay with that.

The ride to Green Lake is long. And by long, I mean torturingly slow. Why? BECAUSE THE BUS DOESN'T GO OVER FOURTY FRIGGEN MILES AN HOUR.

"'Scuse me, Sir?" I leaned over the front seat and poked the pudgy bus driver. He grunted. "Can we go, I don't know, a little quicker?"

"Why're you so anxious to get there?" He asked me, his breath fluttering his mustache. It was quite funny to watch his neatly trimmed mustache twitch.

Right, so it's established that I have a small attention span.

"Because I really, _really_ want this to be over as quickly as possible," I told him honestly. He surveyed me in the mirror.

"Honey, sit your ass down." Was what he finally came out with. My eyes darted to the shotgun that was kept on the floor of the bus underneath his seat for the prisoners that ride it.

"Right." I sat down.

Five seconds later, I found myself poking him again.

He didn't respond.

Poke.

Nothing.

Poke.

No reply.

Poke.

Nada.

This was actually kind of fun.

Poke.

Stony face—eyes on the road—hands on the wheel.

Po—

"Girl, you poke me one more time and I will break your finger." He said this as though he was conversationally speaking about the weather. I snatched my finger away, mid-poke.

I get bored easily. I should establish that right now. People like me, who poke poor bus drivers for fun and like watching their mustaches move when they speak, get bored easily.

"Wanna play a game?" I asked him.

He sighed.

"You know," I continued. "Like a car game?"

He, I think, was ignoring me.

"20 Questions? Ooh! The License Plate Game!"

His expression was blank.

"C'mon everyone loves the License Plate Game." I smiled encouragingly. He kept his eyes straight ahead.

"Ah." I nodded. "You're the uh…strong, silent type then?"

A grunt.

I got a grunt out of him!

"Sir, what's your name?" I asked curiously.

"Pete." He answered.

"You look like a Pete," I surveyed him. He allowed the corners of his mouth to turn up as he decidedly thought that I was complimenting him. "Aha! I saw that smile!"

"Well Pete," I said. "Is there any game you _would _like to play?"

"Do you know…Fifty States?" He raises his bushy black eyebrows in an inquiring manner. I light up.

"I LOVE FIFTY STATES!"

**X-X-X**

A little over an hour later I clamber off the bus with my duffle bag and suitcase in tow and wave to Pete. He smiles cheerily and waves back. "By Bella, and thanks for the chocolate," he salutes me with his Hershey bar. Yeah, Pete and I are tight like spandex now. So much so that I sacrifice candy for him.

"No problem. And hey, tell your son I wish him all the best on his math test!"

"I will. See ya later!"

And he closes the door to the bus and drives off in a cloud of dust.

And here I am. Camp Brown Shit.

Green Lake.

Whatever.

Aunt Lou is waiting for me outside. She welcomes me with open arms and a wide smile. My eyes drink in their surroundings before I go to her. Other than the holes growing in numbers, there wasn't anything different in the broken down camp. I feel sorry for everyone who has to stay here.

Oh, wait. I have to stay here.

Excuse me while I go and die now.

"Bella! How are you?" Aunt Lou comes over and embraces me in a big aunt-y hug. I accept it, but don't entirely welcome it. It's much too hot to hug.

"I'm just dandy, Aunt Lou." I smile at her. I do like visiting Aunt Lou. I hate coming here, but I like Aunt Lou. "How are you?"

Ooh, I made a rhyme.

"Pretty good, pretty good. Ooh look at you, you just shot up like a pistol." She beamed at me as she took in my appearance.

Yeah, see that's the thing about living in Texas. Rural Texans, like my Aunt, always make metaphors like that.

"Well, I'm bound to grow from when I was eight, Aunt Lou," I smiled at her. She flipped her low pony tail over her shoulder.

"That's right, the last time I saw you was eight years ago," she said putting her hands on her hips and spinning me around.

"Yeah, well, that and at Thanksgiving four years ago, but that really doesn't count because you had to leave right away," I reminded her. She nodded.

"Yeah, someone thought they found something and I had to get back here straight away. I'm sorry I couldn't stay for dessert, tell your momma that."

"She knows, Aunt Lou." I put my hand on my suitcase handle and allowed her to usher me inside the cabin.

Air Conditioning is a beautiful invention.

Wait a second.

Found something?

"Whatdya mean 'found something' Aunt Lou?" I asked her. I saw her stiffen but only for a moment. She laughed and relaxed.

"I just mean that, you know, some of the boys think that they saw something interesting when they were digging, that's all." She bustled into the kitchen and fixed me some dinner (it was evening because, again, no matter how much I like my new buddy Pete the Bus Driver, he's not the next Nascar racer). I shook my head when she offered it.

"Hey, Aunt Lou, I was just wondering if maybe today I could eat in the Mess Hall." I suggested. She shrugged and put the ham sandwich that she was putting together back in the fridge.

"If you want, honey. Lemme drive you down there," she grabbed her car keys from off the counter. I looked at her curiously.

"I'm pretty okay on my own Aunt Lou…"

"No, I'll introduce you to the boys." Aunt Lou reassured me. "It's dinner time for them."

Lovely.

**X-X-X**

"Everybody listen up!"

The Mess Hall immediately went silent. There were about 93 pairs of eyes on me. All male. All looking at me as though I was that _amazing_ Tiffany's necklace that they just _had_ to have for their sixteenth birthday that their mom wouldn't let them buy _even though _they had a 4.0 that semester…

Or, you know, a…weight set or something equally manly that's desirable for men and full of…testosterone and stuff….

"My niece will be staying with me for the summer. Now, I realize that it's been a long time since you boys have seen a girl so I'm gonna re-educate you on how to treat her. Do not say anything that you wouldn't say in front of me. If I hear that any of you have treated her disrespectfully there will be consequences." Aunt Lou glared icily at every single boy. She sends a shiver down my spine when she does this whole act. It even intimidates me into good behavior. "Is that clear?"

"Yes Ma'am," the boys chorused.

"Good."

She put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, glared once more at the boys, and walked out.

I didn't feel uncomfortable getting this attention. I expected it, actually. Fine, stare. Their looks can't hurt, and it's not like I've got a boyfriend back at home anyway, so there's nothing to feel guilty about.

Hmm… I wonder where…

"Oh my, Miss Frecia, you have grown up!" A short man with a glob of white sunscreen on his cooked nose rushed over to me with lit-up eyes. There he is.

"Hey Dr. P," I greeted the stout little man who was about to kill himself to give me a hospitable welcome. Being the Warden's niece does have its advantages.

Dr. Pendanski was a walking joke, if you'd ask me. Everything about him was comical right down to his knee-high white socks. But the little man gave me some food and a table by myself, so I have to be grateful to him.

Once Dr. P left, I was sitting there, alone with 93 pairs of eyes still on me.

Well, almost alone.

The one weird thing about being back at Camp Green Lake after eight years was that, instead of looking at you strangely because you were a little girl in a convict camp, they now looked at you like you were a fresh piece of meet.

Oh crap. Me and my stupid big mouth—I _could _have relaxed in the nice air conditioned cabin eating real food, but nooooo. I had to go and be all social and eat with the boys. Am I an idiot?

Don't answer that.


	2. That Idiot with the Toothpick

**A/N: Wow. Second Chapter already? Yeah I know, it's weird for me to post so quickly, but I just had a lot of ideas bouncing around for this. Anyways thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the first chapter!! It made my day : ) ::hugs readers::. And as promised, here's Chap Numero Dos. **

**2. That Idiot with the Toothpick And Rob… (or was it Dave?) **

"Anything I can get you?"

Can you get me the hell out of here?

"No, I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

Seriously, shut up.

"Positive."

"Because really, it's no problem—"

Has anyone ever slapped you? Because I will.

"Really," I turned to look at the unfamiliar boy, who was staring at my chest with no hesitation and clearly no intention to look up. "I'm okay." I gave him an icy glare, but since he was staring eight inches south of my eyes, it clearly didn't matter.

"Okay baby, you just let me know, though." He pulled himself away from me (thank God) and with a slimy wink, he got up off of the bench in the Mess Hall. "I'm Rob—A-tent." He smiled proudly. Was their tent a counterpart to their last names? Stupid. I rolled my eyes, but—oh, no he didn't notice because guess where his eyes were?

Yep, back on my chest.

"That's great, Bob was it?"

Well, I might as well have fun.

"No, Rob."

"Thanks for your help Frank." I lost my appetite from looking at him. ( I never really had one to begin with, but the Mess Hall food is actually better than the crap that my Aunt gives me).

"My name's Rob," he repeated more slowly just incase I was hard of hearing. He looked at me, ironically, like I was stupid.

"Alrighty Bill." I stood up and crossed my arms over my chest. He looked disappointed now. I guess I was blocking his view. "I'll be sure to look you up in D -Tent if I need you."

"ROB!" He was turning red from frustration. "A- TENT!"

"Bye Trent." I turned to walk away (10 to 1 says that his eyes had found their way to my ass once I turned around). As I did so, I heard a scoff coming from my left.

"Psh, we would never house some jackass like that in D-Tent."

I looked over. Rob was out of earshot so I'm assuming that the boy in the corner was correcting me.

I raised an eyebrow. I was really not in the mood to be corrected.

But he went one step further.

"You got a lot to learn, girlie."

Excuse me?

I went over to the source of the voice. He was sitting in the furthest table to the left chewing on a stupid toothpick like there was no tomorrow. He was sitting alone (but that wasn't really a surprise because it was sort of late considering the hours they had to keep and most people had gone off to the Rec room). He was bent over a small piece of paper. His eyes (as well as half of his face) were hidden beneath the shadow that was cast by the brim of his hat. I sat down, well aware that I was uninvited. I didn't care.

"What did you just say?"

Seriously, anyone who is patronizing me after the day I've had has got some nerve.

He fingered the toothpick and took it out of his mouth before answering. "Well, he is a jackass. That's why most everyone calls him 'Donkey' round here." He had a southern drawl and I actually found it sort of amusing to hear him speak.

"No, I sort of figured that one out," I said hotly. "I meant the second part."

"Oh." He sat there for a moment and put the toothpick back in his mouth. "Would you rather I called you a man?"

"I would rather that you didn't talk to me at all," I told him coolly. I saw his mouth curl and—what the hell? Is he _smirking _at me?!

Yes. Yes he was.

Stupid boys.

"You got a name?"

"Yeah."

He paused and saw that I clearly wasn't going to be easy about this. Well, ha, too bad. "Could you tell me?"

"What's yours?"

He turned to me and I could finally see him. Immediately I regretted being so rude to him. He might be an ass, but he was definitely a decent looking one. (Well, compared to most of the boys here). He had soft brown eyes that sort of reminded me of a puppy and tufts of chocolate hair fell into them. "Squid." He answered.

I nearly laughed, but then I realized he was serious. "Is that a family name?"

He gave a half laugh and appreciated my sense of humor. "Nah, it's a nickname."

"What's your real name?" I asked him, now curious. That smirk appeared on his face again and I watched his eyes. I could tell he wasn't going to be easy about this either.

"What's yours?"

"Bella."

"Nickname?" He asked. I shrugged.

"Not a very discreet one, but yeah."

"Short for Isabella?"

I nodded. "You're quick."

"Nah, you're just not very subtle." He looked up at me and I smiled. I like this kid.

"What's yours short for then?"

"Alan." His nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Because Squid is so much better?" I asked him. He shook his head and looked away.

"No, just that Alan is the family name."

"And that's clearly a problem?"

"You don't know my family." His voice suddenly turned cold and hard and his eyes grew distant.

"I'm not pretending like I do." I didn't really like where this was going.

His eyes met mine again and shifted his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. He looked at me thoughtfully and I suddenly felt self-conscious.

"You don't know me."

"I'm not pretending like I do." I told him. He surveyed me again and I felt that same uncomfortable feeling come over me. Stop doing that whole considering thing with the eyes, I wanted to tell him. It's unnerving.

But I didn't. And I still felt his gaze on me.

A one-sided staring contest.

Huh. Now that's a trick.

"Do you want to?"

What?

My head turned to meet his eyes so sharply that I think my neck might have cracked. He did that smirking thing again and I knew that he realized he caught me off guard.

"You two, Mess Hall's closed," the man behind the counter said gruffly as he began wrapping up the left over—could you call it food?—well…brown slop. He sneezed into his hand and continued wrapping.

Remind me to eat at the cabin tomorrow.

Squid must have seen this too because he made a disgusted face and got up off of the bench.

"So I'll see ya around?" He turned to me with a raised eyebrow.

"Looks like it."

"Oh, by the way, the only real tent worth knowing is D-Tent."

"Why?" I asked him.

"Because, it's the one I'm in." He flashed a smile at me, and I noticed that--despite all of the filth surrounding us--his smile was still extraordinarily white and extraordinarily arrogant.

And I watched him go. I rolled my eyes. Stupid D-Tent boy named after a fish with a toothpick in his mouth at all times.

Oh yeah, summer with Aunt Lou is gonna be a real blasty-blast.

**A/N: eh, I know, it's much shorter than the last one. Oh well. Reviews are lovely, if you feel like you wanna push the purple button below. **

**Just saying. **


	3. But My Nails are Too Pretty!

**A/N:**** im sorry for not updating in a few days… I've had some huge project due in English about Shakespeare and stuff, which was really time consuming. But anywho, here's chapter three ). **

**3. Digging holes? Come ON Aunt Lou, my nails are too pretty!**

I walked back from the Mess Hall and (unsurprisingly) I was stared at like I was an animal at the zoo.

"Hey baby, wanna save a token and come shower with me?"

Has anyone ever said 'yes' to something like that?

"Hey sweetie, why don't you come on over here? I'll show you how to make a mess in the Mess Hall, if ya know what I mean."

Seriously, has any girl ever responded to this? Ever?

"Hey honey, the shovels aint the only things that are five feet around here."

Ooh. Clever. Good one.

"Yo Ace, that's the Warden's niece."

"That's her?! Damnnnnn."

You're all perverts.

So I turned around. "No," I told the one called 'Ace'. "I'm just some random girl that wandered a hundred miles from the nearest road. Care to point me in the right direction?" My voice was dripping with sarcasm, but then I heard some familiar snickering coming from my left.

And who is about ten feet away from me?

Yeah. Fish boy.

"You just have a habit of stalking me, don't you?" I asked him. He shook his head but continued to laugh.

"Nah, it's just that…well, it looks like Ace is—er—taking your advice," he said breaking out into full blown laughter. I didn't get it. More people joined Squid in laughing and now I felt dumb. I looked over at Ace and he was swiftly turning red and shifting uncomfortably.

What?

Oh. I see.

Ace continued to shift (who wouldn't?) and squirm. I turned away, embarrassed myself.

"Hey, Ace, tell your pants that pointin' aint polite." One of the guys shouted. Oh God, I wanted to die from embarrassment. I bet he did too.

Ugh. I knew coming here wasn't a good idea. There's too much testosterone.

While Ace mumbled something about "needing to go" and ran away…well, tried to run away…I looked over at Squid. He was laughing loudly at something that the black boy with very thick glasses next to him had said. I rolled my eyes. Squid had an annoying habit of popping up at the most random times.

And…what the hell?

Does he _still _have that toothpick in his mouth?!

**X-X-X**

Finally back at the cabin, I collapsed on my bed and turned on the TV set in my room. I flipped idly through the channels—nothing really interesting. Reruns of _The Real World _on MTV…animals doing each other on Animal Planet…no…OOH! FOOD CHANNEL!

You know those girls that can't stand looking at food and have the tendency to count calories every five seconds and believe that air is a carb?

Yeah, I'm not one of them.

"—and once you take it out of the oven, you pour the fudge on top of the cake—"

That reminds me. I'm friggen starving.

Rolling off of the bed, I straightened my tank top and made my way into the kitchen, where Aunt Lou was sitting, flipping through a Pottery Barn magazine.

"I thought that you ate with the boys," she said, not even looking up.

"You are aware that what you serve them over there isn't edible, right?" I asked her with my head stuck in the fridge. She turned the page and made a noise that sounded like 'mmm'. I scanned the shelves…turkey sandwich? Nah, I don't think so…I could heat up some leftover pasta? Nah, not tonight. Make a salad?

"What were you and Squid talking about?"

Maybe I should have the pasta and the salad. I wonder if we have any bread…

Wait, what?

"What?"

"I said, what were you and Squid talking about?" She repeated still not even bother to meet my eyes. One would normally ask 'How the hell did you know what I was doing?' but no, I knew better. You can't get anything past Aunt Lou. In fact, I would be surprised if she didn't bring that up.

"Absolutely nothing. He told me D-tent was the only tent worth knowing. That's basically it," I answered in a monotonous tone.

"Squid's a smooth talker," Aunt Lou mentioned.

…Okay….

"I should care, why?" I asked, opening the drawers in the fridge. Damn, no ham left. I settled for the pasta. Taking the container off the shelf and closing the door with my foot, I turned to the microwave.

"I'm just saying, is all," she said turning to me. I propped myself on the counter and waited for my food to warm up.

"Alright. Thanks for the…information," I said rolling my eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes, it's impolite." Aunt Lou turned her back on me and went back to her magazine.

"Fine."

Eye roll.

"I saw that."

The microwave beeped and I jumped off the counter and took a fork out of the drawer.

"You see everything," I told her, and I began leaving the room.

"Oh, by the way, he was right about one thing." I heard Aunt Lou call to me. I stopped dead in my tracks, but didn't turn to face her. Crap. Aunt Lou was a master at throwing in little comments like that.

"What was that, Aunt Lou?" I asked, repressing a sigh. I have a feeling I'm not going to like her answer.

"D-tent really is the only tent worth knowing."

Oh boy, I can't wait to hear what this one is about.

"Why?"

I'm walking right into it.

"You'll be digging with them."

Digging?

Shit.

I thought if I was nice to her for a little while she wouldn't make me dig! Excuse me while I go cry now.

Why can't I ever escape torture? Why? Is it just a thing with my mom and my aunt? Do they have a need to make my summer hell? Is it genetic? Will I be doing this to my daughter someday?

I turned around and looked at her with pleading eyes. "Aunt Lou…."

"Don't even try getting out of it, you're going to." She silenced me before I could even whine further.

Ugh.

"Digging? But, really, can't I be of help somewhere else?!" I begged. She looked up at me with stern eyes. Clearly this wasn't going to be easy.

"One hole a week is all I ask," she said in the same tone that my mother used to sentence me here.

"But…but…"

"But?"

"MY NAILS ARE TOO PRETTY!"

She took a second to look down at them. They really were quite nice. Before I came here, I treated myself to a French Manicure. Yeah, that's right. I decided that I needed one more part of normal society to hold onto while I was here.

"Excuse me?"

Oh crap. Here we go again.

"Uh…its just that…"

"One hole a week. Am I making myself clear?"

I hate you Aunt Lou.

I sighed. I know she doesn't like it when I sigh, but I don't like it when she makes me dig holes, so we're even. "Yes, Aunt Lou."

"Good."

I turned on my heel and looked down at my pasta with depressed eyes. I was almost out of earshot, when she said, "Oh and by the way."

Are you kidding? We're doing this again?

"Yes, Aunt Lou?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"That's not the best manicure I've seen."

Okay, you can take away my freedom and you can make me dig holes all summer, but DO NOT insult a manicure that I paid for _myself_ for fifty dollars plus tip.

Just don't.

But she went on.

"Try adding a little venom next time."

I rolled my eyes. I didn't even know what that meant, but I didn't care. I was still pissed off about the fact that she was making me dig holes like a juvenile delinquent. Ugh.

'_What are you doing this summer, Samantha?'_

'_I'm going to Italy with my family.'_

'_What about you, Natalie, what are you going to do this summer?'_

'_I'm going to Cape Cod with my brothers.'_

'_What are you doing this summer, Isabella?'_

'_I'm digging holes for my Aunt with a bunch of rapists and thieves. Yay.'_

**X-X-X**


	4. Finding somethng to do

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in about a month, but now that school's out, I've been able to write more. Hope you enjoyed the last few chapters, thanks to all that have reviewed and onto chapter four!**

**4. Finding something to do**

The next day, I woke up startlingly early, soaked in sweat. Heat was blasting through the normally cool cabin and, and after being treated to the wonderful news that I was going to be digging holes during the summer, needless to say, this was not what I needed.

"Aunt Louuu," I called out, although my pillow muffled my exhausted voice so it sounded sort of like "Moo" instead.

Great. So I'm dying of the heat in the middle of nowhere and I'm a cow. Sure. Why not.

With all of the energy I could muster, I raised my head and repeated my cry of "Aunt Lou" with my eyes still closed, clinging to the desperate thought of sleep.

Please, please, _please_ let this all be a dream so that when I wake up I'll be in my comfortable bed far away from all of this—the heat, the juvenile delinquents, Camp Greenlake in general…

I cracked open my eyelid and saw the ugly wallpaper. No. No, I refuse to believe this….

"Did you call me?"

No. Go away. You can't be here! That means I'm not dreaming….

"Yeah," I confirmed as I rubbed my eyes open and swung my legs over my bed. I faced the doorway, in which Aunt Lou was standing in. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun on the top of her head and she was carrying around a personal fan—you know, the kind you'd get at a fourth of July vender's stand. "Why the hell is it so hot in here?"

She pulled on a dry smile. "Character building."

I narrowed my eyes at her. If she was serious, I just may cry. You know, assuming that I still can--I feel like my entire body is as dry as the air outside, and I don't think that I have enough water in me to even create tears.

"Please tell me that you have a different answer ready, because if that's your only one I think I might scratch your eyes out in a matter of five seconds."

She laughed wryly. "Well, I could tell you that the air conditioner's broken and it won't be fixed until Friday."

Friday.

FRIDAY?!!?!

"But…but today's only Monday," I stammered. No. This is unreal. No…OH MY GOD!

"Yeah, but the repair men couldn't make it out here 'til Friday," Aunt Lou stated the horrible, horrible truth again. STOP IT AUNT LOU, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!

"No, stop saying it!" I put my hands over my ears and pouted like a small child. A small, exhausted, fucking overheated child.

She looked at me as though I was insane. "You're acting like a four year old, now stop throwing such a fit. You know, you could always pass your time…" she trailed off and I looked at her through narrow eyes.

"How? This heat is absolutely unbearable, Aunt Lou. You, I'm assuming, have only one fan?"

"Naturally. Sorry, honey, but I don't get company that often."

You're kidding. But it's such a hospitable environment! I can't imagine why.

Wait a second, was I imagining it or was she doing that whole "glint in the eye" thing?

No, no, I definitely wasn't imagining it. There it was again. The Glint.

Yeah. It has its own title.

And with it, came along the horrifying statement that only completed the saga of my terrible summer. "Bella, if you can't find something productive to do, I'll find something for you to do."

This sounds like a reasonable request, I guess, but what you don't understand is that in the middle of the desert there _is_ nothing productive to do. Unless I build a makeshift fan out of sand or, I don't know, become some sort of science genius and figure out a way to convert dirt into a natural, organic cloud or something and create rain.

Because that's such an easy task.

And that's exactly what Aunt Lou is figuring. She already has something in mind for me to do because clearly I can't think of anything myself. Surrender registers on my face and wordlessly she hands me a five foot shovel that had been cleverly concealed behind her back.

Shit.

"You're up early enough—the boys should only be halfway done, not even; some of them are slow diggers. You'll make friends easily enough—I hear you managed to yesterday."

Is she referring to Squid? Because I'm not really sure that she can count him as a "friend"—more like a kid who happens to pop up every single time that I'm around the campers. Or maybe she meant Ace. He seemed like he wanted to get pretty "friendly".

Ew.

"C'mon, B, I'll drive you out there." Aunt Lou leaned the offending shovel against the door pane. I groaned and flung my entire body backwards onto my bed.

But she was going to make me do it. I knew she would. Because she's Aunt Lou. And I knew the drill—if I wasted time inside here, then I'd be digging in the hottest part of the day.

Shit.

I rolled over to the other side of my bed and opened the dresser drawer. I grabbed a pink tank top and a pair of denim shorts. I pulled my hair up quickly into a high pony tail so that it stayed off my neck for the remainder of the day. Pulling on my sneakers I grudgingly took hold of the shovel and went followed Aunt Lou out to the blue Mustang convertible.

"Who'm I digging with again?"

"D-tent."

"Who's in there?"

"They'll introduce themselves."

"Why do you insist on torturing me?"

"Honey," she turned her eyes on me and narrowly avoided driving the car into a hole. "This aint torture."

"No?"

"No. I could've made you dig with B-tent."

"Oh thanks for having pity on me and not throwing me in with the murders," I said dryly. She only laughed and maneuvered the car around another hole. Damn these holes.

And yet, I thought as I turned my eyes on the shovel that was resting against my shin, there was about to be one more in the ground.

Let's get this over with already.

**X-X-X**

After driving for what seemed like an hour, Aunt Lou finally stopped the car in a cloud of smoke and got out. I followed in suit and she led the way over to a group of boys who stopped working as they all became aware of our presence.

There were seven boys. Seven faces staring at me as though I were an alien. Seven pairs of eyes looking me up and down, surveying every part of me. I felt like a lab rat and all I wanted them to do was to go back to their holes and leave me alone.

"Boys," Aunt Lou said in an authoritative voice "Many of you remember from the Mess Hall, but just as a reminder this is my niece, Bella." She placed a hand on my shoulder as though protecting me. I raised an eyebrow at it, but didn't say anything. God forbid I should interrupt The Warden. It seemed to register on the boys faces that I was a girl and they did that whole nudge-and-nod-approvingly thing and I every pair of eyes either go straight to my chest or trying to check out my ass.

Nice guys. Real classy, these ones are.

The only three who actually had respect was the smallest one, who just kept staring straight forward; the boy next to him who said a greeting quietly and who's eyes found the dirt beneath him; and the last was Fish Boy.

Hi Fish Boy!

At least I knew one of them. I nodded in acknowledgement to Squid and he smiled stupidly back as he shifted his toothpick from side to side. The boy next to him, an unusually tall kid with a paranoid look about him and sandy blonde hair, nudged him excitedly and mumbled at rapid-fire pace. Squid pushed the boy jokingly and muttered something back.

I rolled my eyes at this. Stupid boys and their constant muttering.

"Bella will be digging holes with you," Aunt Lou proceeded to tell them. I shook her hand off of my shoulder as it was starting to make me sweat.

"Damn," a large black boy said. "You make your own niece dig?"

"She aint gonna break a nail or something?" chuckled another with extremely thick, dirty glasses.

"No, I aint," I growled. "Bet I can finish before you."

Okay so I admit, challenging that boy was probably not one of my better ideas, what with him being halfway finished and everything, but I was a pretty fast digger—I have done this before.

The boys "ooh"ed at the prospect of this dare. The boy stepped forward and half-laughed at me. "You sure you wanna do that, girlie?" he asked in a mocking tone.

"Pretty damn sure," I answered him, stepping forward as well. He looked me up and down with an appraising eye. I stared straight into his glasses in what I hoped was an intimidating manner. First of all, there was no way in hell that I was going to be treated differently just because I was a girl—I could dig just like the rest of them. I'm not completely inept and I actually found myself getting offended at their jeering.

Aunt Lou raised an eyebrow. "Now that's enough. No one's challenging anyone, you hear?" She looked pointedly at me and I rolled my eyes. No way in hell was I going to let them push me around. "What did I tell you about doin' that?"

"S'not polite," I mumbled. "I get it."

"Good." She turned back to the seven boys. "Boys, I want you to introduce yourselves to her."

One by one they stepped forward starting with the smallest one. "Zero," he said in a small voice. Next to him was the shy boy, Caveman. A Hispanic boy named Magnet came next, then there was Armpit, who was the largest. The boy who was currently trying to stare me down through his filthy glasses was X-Ray. The one next to Squid was called Zigzag and he continued to stare at me as though I was a foreign creature. I promise, Zig, I'm not going to bite you.

Squid stayed silent, continuing to chew on that toothpick.

"You wanna speak?" Aunt Lou asked him expectantly.

"We already met," I explained as though she didn't know. He smirked and maneuvered his way through the crowd, past X-ray and stopped about a foot away from me.

What is he doing?

"The name's Squid," he told me. I nodded, not really knowing what else to do. Yes, Fish boy, I know, I wanted to say. He raised his hand to his mouth and took the toothpick out of it, putting it behind his ear. Then, his hand found its way to mine. He lifted it and…

Kissed it?

I stood there, dumbfounded. What just happened…?

He turned around smoothly and took his place back in the lineup. He was either completely oblivious to everyone's eyes on him (including mine) or just choose to ignore the attention. I only became aware that my mouth was open when I felt it go dry. I forcibly closed my jaw and looked down at my hand, which had dropped to its original place at my side, not really understanding what just took place.

I'll give him one thing…he definitely knows how to introduce himself. Well done, Fish boy. Well done, I thought, feeling a small smile tug on my lips.

"Right." Aunt Lou was the first one to break the silence. "Now that that's done with, I expect you boys to treat Bella with the same respect that you show me. S'that understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the boys chorused.

"Good." She climbed back into the Mustang—my escape ride—and pulled away.

Leaving me alone. With them.

They went back to their holes and I stood there, sort of watching them. That was, until, the one called Armpit hurled a pile of dirt in my direction and it hit me in the face. That was when I decided to move to a more suitable position.

"Yeah, sure you could beat me in hole-digging," I heard X-ray say. I turned around and saw him smirking at me from across the way. "You haven't even started."

I rolled my eyes at him and, ignoring his haughty comments, I determinedly began to dig.

**X-X-X**

It was true that once you got down to it, it wasn't that hard. The very beginning, where the earth is all dry on top, is definitely the hardest part. But once you're about two feet in, it goes pretty quick.

Beads of sweat lingered on my forehead, but I kept working as the sun moved positions slowly in the ever-clear sky.

It was actually sort of peaceful, I thought. You can tune out everyone and just…dig. Absolutely everyone. No one to think about, no one to talk to…just you and the dirt.

And then I felt dirt fly into my face. For the second time of the day.

Thanks. I glared up in the direction of a snickering boy.

Of course.

I dug up a huge pile and flung it over my shoulder, allowing it to land in Squid's hole in retaliation. He cried out in protest, but I kept working diligently. Take _that_, Fish Boy. Muhaha. I am victorious!

"What'd you do that for?" I heard him ask in a slightly annoyed voice.

"Me?" I said, putting on the most angelic face I could manage. "I've no idea what you mean; you're imaging things, Fish boy."

"Fish boy?" He raised his eyebrows. I smirked and turned back to my hole.

"So girlie, what's your name again?" asked Armpit.

"Bella."

"How old're you?" inquired X-ray.

"Old enough," I grunted, not really feeling like revealing my age to them.

"That doesn't answer my question," he said, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Maybe she doesn't feel like answering questions, man," Squid spoke down to his hole.

"Or maybe she's just too love-struck from that _absolutely adorable_ Casanova move that you pulled before, Squid," X-ray sneered. Sure. You just have to bring that one up.

Oh, okay, not only does he have to bring it up, but he has to finish it off by making kissy-noises like a five year old would do.

You're _real_ mature, X.

"Or maybe she's too busy blushing to answer," Magnet joined in. Squid raised his eyebrows and looked over and I quickly hid my face by looking at the ground. Am I blushing? Shit.

Why the hell would that make me blush? I didn't blush before. I didn't blush when he actually kissed my hand.

Probably because I couldn't move, but that doesn't matter I…I really need to stop thinking about that now.

"Or maybe she doesn't feel like answering stupid questions," I snapped at them and went back to my hole.

Hey, I was already three and a half feet down. Sweet. A foot and a half to go and then I'd be free.

"So what would be considered a smart question?" X-ray asked with curiosity.

"How about 'why don't you shut your mouth and dig your hole?'" I said sarcastically. "That's a smart question that I've been dying to ask you."

"Nobody talks to me like that," X-ray proclaimed dropping his shovel down and climbing out of his hole.

"Guess I'm nobody," I said shrugging, dropping my own shovel and getting out of the hole I created to meet him. "You gonna do something about it?"

He looked at me intently for a long moment and I actually felt slightly scared. Again, it probably wasn't the smartest idea to pick a fight with what seemed like the leader of the group.

But I stood my ground and stared back at him and slowly a smile formed on his face.

"You alright, girl," he told me offering his hand out to me to do one of those sideways-guy-hi-fives.

I clapped it in my own and grinned. "You ain't so bad yourself."

"You part of D-tent now, you got it? Me and my boys are brothers in here. Anyone messes with you; they mess with us, too," he nodded to the boys.

"Yo, X, she still needs a name, though." Zigzag voiced.

"Yeah, she does, doesn't she?"

"Anything'll do, just as long as it's not 'girlie'," I told them, groaning at the thought of the nickname. I guessed that nicknames were sort of like a sign of respect around here. It's like…initiation into the group.

And I guess mine would be my wake-up call; a sign of forcible reality that yes, I was actually here.

And yes, I was actually digging.

**A/N: Here's where you guys come in! I decided it'd be better for a reader to come up with her nickname so I'm holding a contest (sort of) to see who can come up with the best nickname for her. I'll choose which one I think'll suit her best. So go ahead and submit your nicknames )  
xoxo,**

**Emeraldeyez1728**


	5. I Christen Thee

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks so much for all of your great suggestions! I loved all of your nicknames and it was really hard choosing one. But, because they were all so fantastic, I did what any responsible author in my position would do. **

**I played eeny-meeny-miney-mo.**

**No, I really did. **

**So here we go!**

**5. "I Christen Thee…"**

I stood there and watched all of them evaluate me. There were a few stupid and completely irrelevant suggestions swapped around.

"How about Candy?"

"That makes me sound like a whore," I dismissed it immediately. "Or a chocolate sweet. Or a whore covered in a chocolate sweet."

"Ain't nothing wrong with _that_ image," Magnet said. I raised an eyebrow at him. He took the hint and quickly hid his face, muttering something in Spanish.

But he didn't completely let the subject matter go—I caught the word _Hershey_ thrown in there somewhere.

"What about Bee?" Squid offered.

"As in 'Bumble'?" I asked. He folded his arms across his chest.

"As in the first letter of your name, _Bella_," he explained it to me as though I had the intelligence level of a five year old. Well, a five year old would not have been able to make that connotation that quickly so ha, Squid.

"Still—you hear 'Bee' and you think Bumble." I shrugged. Maybe it was just me.

"You may as well be one—you're remarks can _sting_, girl," Armpit said. "You may as well be spittin' fire."

X-ray snapped his fingers. "Pit, that's actually pretty good," he said approvingly. "Nice job."

"Yeah, I'm a genius," Armpit confirmed, basking in the positive feedback he was getting. A slightly confused expression crossed his face. "Wait, what'd I say?" he asked.

Yeah. Armpit's the next Einstein.

"Man, stop acting so modest," X-ray nudged him. Armpit nodded along and smiled but then quickly stopped.

"No really, dude, what'd I say?" He asked, getting quite annoyed with X.

"Spit-Fire," X-ray said as though this explained all. "There aint a word outta her mouth that's not sarcastic. So, that's her name." He turned to me. "You okay with that, girlie?"

I shrugged. "Sure." After all, let's be honest here—they could have been merciless and named me something like…Baby, or Girlie, or Tampon.

…What? Well, I'm the only one who would have to use one…. They'd do it, too. They'd enjoy calling me Playtex or something for short.

Thank _God_ they did not think to name me Tampon.

It probably entered one of their sick and twisted minds. I'm glad they dismissed it. They probably knew I would kill them if they even voiced it.

Tampon.

Psh.

"So. Should we make it official or something?" Caveman asked from his hole.

"Yeah, that's a good idea, Caveman." X-ray rounded on me and, through his dirt-stained glasses, he looked at me in the eye and said, "Get down for me."

"Excuse me?"

That command could be taken the wrong way if you have a sick mind. I happen to have a sick mind and the first thing that _came_ to my mind was…well, we'll ignore all of that.

Everyone snickered. Oh, okay, so I'm not the only one.

Wait, I'm supposed to be outraged at this suggestion. Here we go—scowling at everyone around, desperately trying to block that image out of your brain…yes. I think I've successfully conveyed outrage now.

"Not in _that_ way, God, I can't say anything around you without you getting all touchy."

More snickering.

"Not _touchy_—I didn't mean it like that, I—Oh Christ, would the rest of you just shut up?" He glared at the group and silenced them. "Just…just kneel down."

"Don't get used to me obeying you," I told him, as I knelt on the ground in front of him slowly.

He chuckled. "Wouldn't dream of it. Yo, Zig, gimme your shovel." Zigzag tossed his shovel to X-ray, the head of it almost smacking me in the face.

"Jesus, Zig, are you trying to kill me?" I looked over at him a bit affronted. I mean, I understood the hazing and everything but was throwing a shovel at the new kid a necessary thing? Really?

"Who've you been talking to?" Zigzag's eyes darted suspiciously from side to side.

I gave him the strangest look. "No one..."

"Then, no I'm not." More eye darting and Zigzag shrunk protectively down into his hole.

"Ignore him," X-ray said. "It's paranoia. Squid read his file."

"You read his file?" I looked past X-ray's hip to see Squid, still in his hole, staying quiet until now.

"Yeah. Read yours too. Would you like me to recite it?" He smirked. I hate that smirk.

"No!" God only knows what was in my file.

Why does Aunt Lou have my file?

I shrugged this thought off and turned back to X-ray. "Alright," I told him. "I'm on the ground and you have a shovel in your hands. What're you gonna do, execute me?"

"No, but there's an idea…"

"I've got a very good aim and from this angle and distance you do realize that one good punch could ensure you not having children, right?" I asked, looking up at him. He crossed arm stratigaclly in front of his…man area and mumbled something about already having picked out the names and I'd better not do anything to jeopardize him.

I almost laughed.

"Alright. I christen thee Spit-Fire. Spitter of the Fire. Fire de Spit. In any case, it's your name from now on." X-ray tapped me on each shoulder with the wooden end of the shovel as though he was the Queen knighting someone.

Ha. I could _so_ imagine X-ray dressed up as the Queen knighting someone like…Paul McCartney or something.

Gimme a second while I laugh at that mental image.

…

Okay I'm good.

**X-X-X**

I was a pretty fast digger. True, I finished after Zero, X-ray and Armpit, but I was done before Squid, Zigzag, Magnet and Caveman.

I heard a low whistle come from my right. "You weren't kidding when you said you were quick," Caveman said, surveying my hole.

"I'm the Warden's niece. Digging's in my blood." I shrugged as I went over to the edge of his hole. Oh, poor Caveman. He's only…three feet down. Barley. "D'you need help?"

"Nah, it's okay."

"No, really, I could help you. I mean, I'm not going back to anything that I'm looking forward to," I told him. Caveman looked up at me with innocent, puppy dog eyes and considered my offer.

"No, you go on ahead. I'll be okay," was the verdict. I shrugged again.

"If you're sure," I said, getting up and dusting myself off.

"I am. I'll be okay." He smiled genuinely and I felt like I wanted to hug him. What the hell was a kid like him doing here? He was a sincerely nice guy. What could he have done to be sent here?

"Hey, Caveman?" I asked before I left. "Um, is it alright if I…I mean, what's your real name?"

He raised and lowered one shoulder at the question. "Stanley. Stanley Yelnats."

"S'it okay if I call you that?" I asked.

"Sure, if that's what you want," he said indifferently.

"Okay, I will." He didn't look like a Caveman. He looked more like a Stanley. It suited him so much better.

"Later, Spit-Fire."

"Bye, Stanley."

I went back to my hole and spit in it (don't judge me for being unsanitary, it seemed to be the custom. A weird custom, but it was like _the thing_ to do. I guess to mark your territory. What's that? Oh you weren't aware that we were filming an Animal Planet documentary this summer? Big shocker, right? Yeah. Just be glad they didn't decide to pee in the holes. Spitting is a big step—a mark of evolution. What separates us from the animals? Saliva in holes). Picking up my shovel, I walked away. A job well-done, I thought to myself. It was a decent looking hole. Great. Now I can go back to my nice, air conditioned room—

No I can't. That option is no longer accessible. Because that is no longer an option. Fucking Lovely.

I'm crying on the inside.

I didn't really want to hurry back to my Aunt's cabin so fast. Conversations were fun, I thought. Getting to know Stanley wasn't that bad.

I stopped walking and turned around, looking back on the remainder of D-tent. And then I spotted him.

To annoy or not to annoy, that is the question….

To annoy. Always to annoy.

I plopped myself down at the edge of Squid's nearly-finished hole.

"You're gonna get dirt on yourself if you keep sittin' there," he said without even bothering to look up. I kicked my feet a little and shrugged.

"I think I proved that I can handle a little dirt, didn't I?" I raised an eyebrow. It was his turn to shrug.

"Just wouldn't want you got get that shirt dirty s'all." He glanced up at me and shielded his eyes from the sun's glare.

I half-laughed. "I've got others. This one's old anyway."

He considered this and went back to his hole. "Suit yourself."

"I will." I nodded at him and sat there, perfectly content with tracing my finger around in a small circle, forming a ring in the dirt.

"What're you trying to play at?" He broke the silence suddenly. I looked up from my dirt drawing back to his chocolate brown eyes. He was looking straight at me, leaning on his shovel.

The question surprised me. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"It's just…did your aunt send you to check up on me or something?" He accused in his southern drawl. I raised an eyebrow.

"No, why? Do you need to be checked up on?" I inquired.

"I don't need a babysitter," he said gruffly.

"I wasn't tryin' to be one," I countered smoothly.

"Yeah? What _were_ you trying to be?" He asked.

I looked at him with curiosity. For how long, I'm not sure, but I _really_ looked at him. And I came to one conclusion: the boy was extremely guarded where I was concerned.

And for some odd reason, which I'm still trying to figure out, this ticked me off. A lot. It irritated me until no end and I didn't get sleep that night because I was too busy thinking about what could have made him that way and why the hell did he need to act that way around me?

But then, why did it matter so much? He's Squid. I'm not going to try and change him; I'll let the digging do that.

"A friend," I answered finally after studying his face. "You look like you could use one."

He looked at me strangely and continued to gnaw on that toothpick in his mouth as though he were a beaver. After about a minute and a half of utter silence and toothpick chewing, I sort of wanted to rip it out of his mouth. What _is it _with him and those toothpicks, anyway? Is he extremely dental hygienically conscious?

I bet that's it. I bet he's a closet hygiene freak, particularly where dental hygiene is concerned. I bet in the pockets of his jumpsuit he's got a travel toothbrush and a little package of floss as well.

Alright I couldn't stand the silence anymore. It was uncomfortable and stifling, much like the heat around us. Squid had his digging to occupy him, but I felt like the weird kid that's left out at a party and spends the entire night pretending to be really thirsty and standing by the punch bowl all night.

…What? I had an awkward phase as a child, don't make fun.

"So what was with that whole 'let's kiss the hand of the fair maiden' thing?" I asked, slightly laughing at him and his chivalrous behavior.

"You didn't like it?" He asked bluntly.

"Didn't say that."

"So what _are_ you saying?" He began to spin his shovel around idly in his hand.

"I'm saying your style went out of style in the Middle Ages," I told him leaning forward. He smirked at me.

"Still doesn't answer my question."

Sure. Okay, so I didn't answer his question. I avoided it. There's always a lot of avoiding questions and dodging going on, it seems, when I get in a conversation with Squid.

I glanced down at my hand—the one where he kissed me—and covered it quickly with my other palm.

And then I realized what I did.

Please oh please God tell me that Squid didn't see that….

Shit. He saw.

And now he's smirking.

And…hey! Now here comes the laughing.

Bastard.

"I hate you," I said childishly.

"You don't. And you _still _didn't answer my question."

"I thought we established earlier that I don't like answering stupid questions." I looked pointedly at him.

Squid thought about this for a moment and then grinned. Arrogantly.

Stupid boy and his stupid out-of-style hand kissing.

I got up and dusted the dirt from off my shorts. "I gotta get going. I guess I'll see you later, Casanova."

"Will you?" He asked offhandedly. I turned around and shrugged dramatically as though really considering it and then I allowed myself to smile.

"Looks like it."

I think I handled that pretty well.

**A/N: Thanks so much to Adrienne, the winner of the "name my character because I'm too lazy to do so" contest. She is now Spit-Fire. **

**Like I said, guys, I loved all of your ideas and I played eeny-meeny-miney-mo cus they were all so good. Please don't hate me if I didn't pick your nickname and stop reading my story out of spite-I still love you!!!! cries out desperately to readers DON'T GOOOO. **

**Okay I'll shut up now. Until next time!**

**xoxo,**

**Emeraldeyez1728**


	6. Mr Sir's vehical part one

**Mr. Sir's ****Ve****-hi-cal**** part one**

Vehicle. It's a simple word.

"C'mon Bella, get on in the ve-hi-cal."

Although, it clearly wasn't for Mr. Sir. I stared at him incredulously.

"Whassamatter? I ain't speakin' good enough English for you t'listen? Maybe you should clean out yer ears, Bella."

Real friendly guy this Mr. Sir.

"There were about five grammatical errors in those statements alone, so no you _aren't_," I answered tartly.

I'm in a bad mood, Mr. Sir. You are taking me back to an area where there is absolutely no air conditioning. I'd really rather stay out here where at least I have company.

I mean the D-tent boys weren't my first pick for company but hey, at least they're someone to talk to.

I heard Squid snicker openly from behind me and out of the corner of my eye I saw Stanley quickly disguise his laughter into a convenient cough.

"You laughin' at me, boy?" Mr. Sir turned fiercely on Stanley. Stanley stuttered for a second and shook his head.

"No he's not, he's had a chest cold all day. Maybe Pendanski should come by and give him some Tylenol or something." I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and balanced my elbow on my shovel. Stanley smiled at me gratefully and I gave him a curt nod.

"Yeah, sure," Mr. Sir said gruffly and turned away. I could tell he was resisting from telling me off. Wanna know how I knew? He turned a funny shade of purple.

Ah, the perks of being the Warden's niece.

"Now I ain't gonna tell you again, get in the ve-hi-cal." Mr. Sir jimmied open the door of his beat up Chevy truck. I surveyed the inside with distaste as I saw cigarette and beer stains all over the upholstery along with scattered pictures of unmentionable magazines—y'know, stuff that you just wouldn't let your mother see you have subscriptions to.

Ew Mr. Sr. Just…ew.

There was a plethora of Styrofoam cups, dirt, and I could have been wrong but I thought that I saw something moving underneath the dashboard.

No way in hell was I getting in that truck, even if he ever did figure out how to pronounce the word vehicle correctly.

"I ain't gonna wait around all day, I got things to do so either you get in the ve-hi-cal or you walk back to the cabin," Mr. Sir growled. Is this supposed to be a hard decision on my part?

And I swear to God if he calls that sorry excuse for a truck a 've-hi-cal' _one more time_ I'll run him over with it.

"Get in the ve-hi-cal!"

Let me just explain something. Everybody's got their _thing_. You know, the unacceptable pet-peeve number one that you're not supposed to do when within a fifty foot radius of that person. Some people, it's smoking. Other people, it's popping your gum. Still for others it's chewing a toothpick day in and day out without stopping because you're a dental hygienist freak.

But for me, my number one happens to be mispronouncing words that are widely accepted as pronounced a certain way.

You see I can understand tomato and to-mah-to or potato, po-tah-to, yeah that's fine. Pronounce those vegitables however you'd like.

…Or are they fruits?

Whatever, it doesn't matter. My point is that everyone says "vehicle". It's just "vehicle". Just because you call yourself Mr. Sir because you need to make up for a lack of respect or because you didn't get hugged enough as a child, that does NOT mean that you can change the pronunciation of words. No. The rules are the same for you as they are for every other American. So step off Mr. Sir.

Yeah, I said it.

"Mr. Sir, I don't know what you're talking about, but from where I come those are called 'vehicles' not 've-hi-cal's."

No. Shockingly enough those words did not come from my mouth. I turned around and looked at Squid with an open mouth, which I'm sure was extremely attractive for him because the dental hygiene freak got to see that I had a cavity in my back molar. Great.

"What'd you say, boy?" Mr. Sir rounded on Squid. Oh hey, look, he's turning that funny purple color again. Squid shrugged.

"Just sayin', I dunno where you've been but down here in Texas we call 'em 'vehicles'."

…Squid you're my hero.

I'm ignoring the fact that you read my mind which was really creepy and reminded me of something out of _Carrie_ but whatever, you are my _hero_.

Heh. Could you imagine if he was a superhero? He'd be Squid Boy. Supersquid! Squid Kid!

Oh god I'd have fun with that.

_Faster than a speeding bullet, protector of water creatures, fixer of the __mispronounciation__ brought on by the evil Mr. Sir who was probably too busy with his dirty magazines to learn the English language correctly, it's SQUID KID! _

I imagine that they'd flash this big Squid whenever help was needed. He'd have a costume and he would have a tentacle utility belt and he would be invincible with absolutely nothing that could hurt him.

…Except for fishing nets. But other than that, nothing could stop him! He'd be like Achilles without the heel issue! He could kick, he could punch, he could take any hit standing up and--

OH MY GOD, DID MR. SIR JUST PUNCH SQUID!?

NO SQUID KID, GET BACK UP!! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE IMMUNE TO EXACTLY THIS TYPE OF THING!!

"Mr. Sir, what the _hell _d'you think you're doing!?" I dropped my shovel and ran over to help Squid back to his feet. Stanley and ZigZag were right behind me. Squid nonchalantly returned to his feet and wiped a tiny trickle of blood from his nose. Squid's right eye was completely swollen already, but he was as indifferent as ever. His composure right after being punched sort of makes me want to puke. Stop acting cool, calm, and collected Squid Kid, Mr. Sir just decked you.

"We deal with insubordination differently around here," Mr. Sir returned.

"You _punched_ him!" I said, indignantly.

"He was asking for it."

"Not once did I ever hear him say 'Please punch me, Mr. Sir, it'd make me feel fantastic'." I glared at Mr. Sir.

Mr. Sir only shrugged and grabbed me roughly by the arm. "Get the hell in the car, I'm losing my patients," he said, practically tossing me into the car.

Well fine, he didn't have to be so rude about it.

I delicately moved a June issue of Playboy from 1987 (again…ew) off of my seat and watched the D-tent boys' sillouhettes fade as I returned back to the hot, stuffy cabin.

**X-X-X**

"How was your day?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"It couldn't've been that bad."

"It was."

"How so? It was just a hole."

"It wasn't just a hole, Aunt Lou."

"What happened?"

I turned around and sighed.

"My superhero was defeated and that kind of put a damper on my spirits. Where do we keep the ice?"

"The freezer."

"Oh. That makes sense."

**X-X-X**

I walked across the camp, ignoring the cat calls as they were routine now. It was about eight at night and the boys should have been finished with dinner by now and back in their tents.

"Guys," I stood awkwardly outside the run-down tent with the huge 'D' painted on it. "Girl coming through, you'd better wearing something when I get in there."

I waited for about five seconds as I heard shuffling going on inside the tent. When it was quiet, I opened the flap.

"Hey Spit-Fire," Armpit greeted me. I waved, which looked sort of retarded because he was only about two feet away from me.

"Hey, where's Squid?"

"Not back from the showers yet."

…

What the hell do I say to that?

"Oh."

Awkward shuffling on my part. Why was I there again…?

"Yup."

"Okay well um just tell him that—"

"Tell him what?" I turned around, shocked. Squid entered D-tent with a white cotton towel wrapped around his waist and shook out the remnants of shower water from his hair.

"Uh…" I was stammering. Why was I stammering? Why was I even there again?!?!?

I looked down at the floor and saw that I had an ice pack in my hand. Oh! Right! Ice for Squid Kid!!

"I brought you ice. For your eye…" I handed it over. Squid smirked and shifted his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. I could feel myself getting redder by the second. This was possibly the stupidest idea ever.

"Thanks Spit-Fire."

"Aw, innt that cute? She brought you ice for your eye." X-ray snickered from the corner of the room. I turned around and glared in his direction.

"Yeah well I can't do anything about your eyes, seeing as you can't see worth a damn—'least he's fixable."

"Who made you the friggen ornithologist?"

"It's optometrist, X," Stanley corrected. I rolled my eyes.

"Okay well I'm done here. I came to give you the ice," I turned back to Squid, determinedly keeping my eyes on his. "And I did. And now I'm gonna go."

"Hey wait." Squid caught me by the arm just as I was about to leave and I turned around. "Wanna have some fun?"

**A/N: yes, I am mean and leaving you with a cliffhanger ****xP**** but don't worry, you're totally covered, I'm already writing the next ****chapter :D**

**xoxo**

**Emerladeyez1728**


	7. Mr Sir's vehical part two

**A/N: this is a totally necessary apology note. I'm so sorry for making people wait this long, five thousand things made me put this on Hiatus which I totally didn't want to, plus I'm working on an original story over at fictionpress. Anyway, just to prove that I haven't abandoned everyone reading this, here we go with the next chapter. Hope it was worth it to wait this long. **

**Mr. Sir's Ve-Hi-Cal part 2**

I looked down at the hand he used to grab me and got a little annoyed with it being there. What makes him think that he had the right to stop me from going? I was tired, I was hot and sweaty and he was only in a towel so I was a little uncomfortable as well. I jerked my arm back and raised my eyebrow, not sure that I was going to like this, but kind of curious to find out what type of 'fun' he meant.

"What?"

"Fun," he said, a little slower this time. Thanks, I'm not deaf or stupid, I just don't know what you mean. I made a face. Why is it that everybody has to speak slower as if I didn't hear them when I question what they say? Don't they just get the hint, that I ask twice because I'm questioning what they're proposing. No. Clearly nobody gets that. No. Great. I hate you all.

"I'm pretty sure he means 'something that's enjoyable'," Armpit voiced from his bed. "You know, like sex. Or watching a movie."

"Watching a movie about sex," Magnet said with a smirk.

"Or some people read," Zigzag mentioned.

"Probably about sex," X-ray said nonchalantly. Zero didn't say anything and Cavemen gave me an apologetic look, to which I answered with an 'eh, what can you do' type face.

"Are you done?" I asked the whole tent.

"You know, there are such things as sex _toys_ which are also kind of fun," Magnet mentioned just to be obnoxious this time. Good thing he was kind of near me, so I punched him in the shoulder.

"Are you _done?_" I asked with a little more force.

"C'mon guys, she's a girl, I don't think they like hearing about that stuff in a regular conversation," Cavemen said complacently. I smiled gratefully at him and he nodded his head. Squid looked back and forth between us, raising his eyebrows, but not saying anything.

"Thanks, Stanley." I liked calling him Stanley. It seemed way more personal. He smiled shyly and X-ray made an annoyed face.

"'Stanley'?" He spit the name out like it was used gum that he wanted to get rid of. I crossed my arms.

"Pretty sure that's his name."

"His name is Caveman."

No…

"Why?"

"Don't question my reasoning," X-ray ordered, annoyed. I didn't like his tone, but I wasn't in the mood to argue, I just kind of wanted to leave. Long day. I didn't want to stick around to hang out with Fish Boy or X-ray or any of the others. Stanley was kind of okay though, so maybe I'd talk to him.

"Anyway," Squid said, bringing my attention back to him. Oh, right. He wanted to say something. I forgot. Whatever, go ahead. Squid raised a key that jangled in the air on the chain.

…I recognized that key…

Oh shit, you didn't.

"Magnet has a talent," Squid said with a growing smile. Magnet, who was rubbing the spot where I punched him, now smiled proudly.

"It's pretty uncontrollable," Magnet said as if to brush this off. "I'm just too good."

No. They're just to idiotic.

"There is _no _way you're even thinking about this." My eyes flittered between Squid and Magnet. X-ray grinned in approval.

"Spit-fire, you scared or something?"

I hate it when he challenges me. It's that reverse psychology crap. I hate it.

"Alright fine," I said, putting my hands in the pockets of my shorts. "Fine. What do you have in mind?"

A glint arose in Squid's eyes as he turned to the rest of the boys. "What do I have in mind?"

"Driving off is _way _too unoriginal," X-ray dismissed.

"How do you know he doesn't have it bugged or something?" Zigzag questioned cautiously. This boy really needs to chill a little bit. Not that he really can; the heat's probably getting to him. Poor Zigzag. Maybe it's just a character defect? But why would he be sent here? That's just like kicking a horse when he's down. I think that if he was to truly get better he should be in a well-air conditioned space.

Much like me. Maybe I'll get paranoid.

Ugh. That would suck, I imagine. But I already think that my mother and the rest of the world is out to get me, so why not. I may as well have the title. Actually, Pete-the-Bus-Driver probably isn't out to get me. I hope his son passed his math test….

"Oh, I got it!" Squid snapped his fingers. Lightbulb? Relax, Squid, I know this idea-thing is new to you, but the extra effects were not necessary. I mean, who do you know that actually snaps their fingers when they get an idea? I know when it comes up in books and everything, that's when it becomes common, but it doesn't normally happen in real-life. No, people just normally say stuff like 'I got it!' or 'I got an idea' with a proper amount of enthusiasm and that's it.

Idiot.

"What?" I asked, not really liking the pause that he took for dramatic effect. No, that was another stupid thing. If you have an idea that is so good that it involves snapping, you may as well share it with the class. Someone shouldn't have to _ask _you for it.

"Key it."

Excuse me?

"You realize that he'll kill you, right? Like he'll actually _kill _you." He's already here, it wouldn't bother him to just dig a hole as punishment. Actually, he'd just pick a hole and bury Squid there. Maybe that was what Aunt Lou meant that Thanksgiving when she said that one of the boys 'found something'. Maybe it was a skeleton of a kid who went and died of exhaustion or heat or something.

That'd be a real mess and liability for the camp. Maybe then, Aunt Lou could get out of this pitiful lifestyle and just get on with a good life that I know she wants to live. Deep down in her heart she doesn't want to be here.

Deep down.

Maybe five feet down.

"Whatever, that's why you'd be with me." Cue dental hygiene smile. I made a slight whining noise in my throat.

"You're taking blatant advantage of me. Besides, it doesn't matter if I'm with you, he'll clearly still beat you up." I gestured to his eye. I guess it didn't really matter so much that he was holding it to his forehead and not on his eye, probably to keep himself cool; the water was quickly melting.

"I let him take a shot," Squid claimed and I snorted in disbelief.

"Lady-like," Armpit said appreciatively.

"I thought so," I answered tartly.

I liked Armpit. Sarcasm didn't really affect him. Good for him.

"What do you say?" Squid jingled the keys a little more. Relax, Fish Boy, it's not Christmas, we don't have to play Jingle Bells (which is by the way, my least favorite Christmas song of all time. Why did they invent this song? What was the point of this song? It described bells. Bells can be annoying sometimes. Like church bells that ring every half hour? They go on _forever_. So long, that I think, they actually ring way past the half-hour mark. It's like they ring for 30+ minutes. Maybe 35. It's like, thank you Jesus, I got the message the first time).

Is that blasphemous? I don't know. I don't really care. I'm in the first ring of hell anyway with this heat going on. It's something that no one can really adjust to.

I looked from Squid's expectant face, to X-rays interested eyes (probably checking to see if I'd really accept the challenge), to Stanley's cautioning face, to Zero's quietly curious look. I sighed.

"Whatever."

**X-X-X**

"You're too loud!"

"If you don't shut up, I swear I'll make you."

"How're you planning on doing that?"

"You really plan on finding out?"

"Well now I'm kind of curious."

"Just show me where this idiot keeps his truck, would you?"

"Alright, pushy, aren't you?"

"I skipped dinner."

"Why the hell would you do that?"

"Are you really going to reprimand me for that?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It was a stupid thing to do."

"So sneak me something out of Aunty's cabin if you care so much about it."

"Watch it."

"That was just a suggestion."

"No, I mean there's a snake over there, you might want to watch it."

"Thanks."

"Whatever. Ow you stepped on my foot!"

"Would you shush? You're not good at being quiet."

"Normally I don't sneak around."

"Well I do, I'm kind of an expert."

"Teach me oh Squid-san."

"Sarcasm sucks, first of all. Second, _shut up_."

"Hostility doesn't hel—what the hell is it with you and stepping on my feet?"

"That was just to be annoying."

"Task accomplished."

"I pride myself."

"I hope you stick yourself in the eye one day with that stupid toothpick."

"I'd have another."

"I hope you blind yourself in _both _eyes because you can't see where you're putting the toothpick so you end up accidentally sticking your other eye."

"Do I look that stupid to you? Really?"

"Is this the part where I should I answer?"

"Just shut up and lead me to the truck."

**X-X-X**

There were lights in the camp. Light posts, I mean. Only a few, but enough to navigate with. I know for a fact that Mr. Sir guards the front end of the camp and Pendanski takes the rear. The sides have the lights. Which are irritating because it's not easy to get around them, your shadows are casted long outside the barriers and eventually Mr. Sir or Pendanski (depending on where you are) would come and investigate.

That's where Squid got stupid. Well…more stupid.

He stepped into the light and I grabbed his collar, which made him stumble back into the darkness. "Idiot! Wait here."

It didn't take long for me to hear a gunshot go off and Mr. Sir round the corner. I looked at Squid, who blanched.

"That could have been you," I muttered.

"Whatever, I'd've dodged it."

I snorted at the ridiculous statement. Do all boys feel the need to reassure themselves of their masculinity that way? Dumbasses. Seriously, though, what was the deal with the male ego. It shouldn't be so large if it can be shattered so easily.

Dumb, I think. I hope that I never get a boyfriend that's that dumb.

Or at least he'd be very, very good at hiding his idiocy.

Hopefully.

Are there any boys that do that?

Please?

No?

Well. Crap.

"Whossere?"

The butchering of the English language. It makes my eye twitch.

"Sorry, Mr. Sir," I step around the corner. "I know you don't like to be startled. It's um. Only me." I lie a lot, yes. I'm not good at it when I'm under pressure.

"What the hell are you doin' outside your aunt's cabin?" Mr. Sir looked at me like I was a foreign object. I shrugged.

"Fresh air."

Fresh air?

"Fresh air?"

You can't get any fresh air here.

"You can't get any fresh air here."

Go back to your aunt's cabin.

"Go back to your aunt's cabin."

My name is Mr. Sir and I'm easily predictable.

"Now."

Well, he is. The man is not the deepest hole in the bunch, since we're making metaphors here.

"Sorry. I'll go this way, then."

"You do that."

The minute Mr. Sir turned his back and put his finger at a safe distance from the trigger, I grabbed Squid's shirt and pushed him roughly out of the way of the light.

Mr. Sir turned around momentarily and I gave him a 'what?' type of expression before he shrugged and shook his head and I entered the darkness as well.

And then I sighed, purely out of nerves.

"You're okay," Squid said, assessing my talent.

"Yeah, cus you could have done better," I said in the most sarcastic voice I could manage before pushing past him. "Just follow me and shut up."

"Whatever you say," I heard him mutter.

Sure. Because he can mutter since I just saved his skin. Sure. Go ahead. By all means be unhappy with me.

I could have let him get shot, y'know.

And clearly he's no superhero.

"I lifted up the garage door, which is rickety as my luck would have it, so I had to be as slow as possible when doing so.

"You're slow."

"Shut up."

I only lifted it enough so that he could crawl under it and I went in after. The garage was dark except the one window that let in a sliver of moonlight. I couldn't see anything, of course. The dark sucked, I decided. What ever happened in the dark?

So I tripped.

Great.

And I hit him.

Oh sure.

And we flew to the ground. In an 'oof' 'shit' style.

"Um."

Uncomfortable….

"Sorry." I attempted to get up off him but his stupid foot was in the way of the ground and unintentionally tripped me again. He moved his head, probably to look up at me if he even could, and I could tell he was smirking at me. "Oh shut up."

What right did he have smirking at me? I just saved his life.

"Whossere?" I heard Mr. Sir coming around the corner. Was that really that loud?

My eyes widened and before I even knew how to function again, Squid grabbed my arm and pulled me quickly behind the far wheel of the car. I almost made an indignant noise of protest but I guess I'm predictable too because he held a hand over my mouth.

I was really uncomfortable with the close proximity he was to me. Even, y'know, if it was to save both of us from Mr. Sir. Because even if I _was_ the Warden's niece, he'd probably still shoot me if I was anywhere near the precious…disgusting…truck.

Is it weird that he has the largest affinity with this truck? I think it's pretty weird. What grown man clings to his truck like it's a security blanket. I bet that's it. The truck is his makeshift security blanket. Maybe he _wasn't_ hugged enough as a child.

Aw. Mr. Sir. That's adorable…kind of. But then, who would really want to hug him, he's sort of gross even now. I bet when he was a little tyke, the parents were kind of like 'what the hell, this isn't what we ordered'.

Poor man.

Baby.

Tyke. Thing.

Squid was blatantly breathing nervously in my face but I guess it was okay because it smelled like mint. (I'm telling you. Dental freak). I was at the point of shaking because Mr. Sir is not necessarily intimidating, but his gun (which he named Nancy, what the hell?) kind of is.

After five minutes of deliberating, he decided to go back to his post at the front of the camp. I let out a sort of gasp because I had been unconsciously holding my breath and since Squid was panting, I assumed the same thing went for him.

And then we stared awkwardly at each other because this was a very awkward position to be in.

"Anyway."

"Right."

"So this car thing."

"Let's get on that."

We got up and tried to pick which side was better to key. We decided on the right because Squid liked the left better, so I had to be difficult. It was stupid to get into an argument about which side to deface, but we did it anyway and I like to maintain that we did it because he was stupid. He, on the other hand, wanted to maintain that we did it because I was 'frustrating'.

Bite me.

Squid squinted his good eye as he looked at the truck's side. I crossed my arms.

"What do you plan on writing anyway?"

"I dunno. We'll figure it out."

And then it came to me.

"I got it,' I said, snapping my fingers.

Dammit.

But I only did it because he influenced me, I swear to God.

No really, that was why.

Shut up and just give me the damn keys.

I held my hand my hand out and he dropped them wordlessly as I bent down and began to carve.

"T?"

"I'm obviously not done."

"Th?"

"Oh good. You have a lisp. Can I call you Thquid?"

"Cute, Bella. Real cute," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. I grinned and continued.

"This."

"Do you really have to read everything?"

"You're not letting me do anything, so yeah." He looked a little disgruntled. That could have just been the lighting, but whatever, I wasn't letting him do anything because this was my idea. My turn. He brought us here, he had enough ideas for one night.

I worked diligently with Squid looking around like a watch dog about every five minutes as he watched my progress. As I continued, he looked sort of proud of me.

Great. I now have the approval of a convicted juvenile delinquent. Cool. My life goals have been fulfilled.

"Quit looking at me like that," I said as quietly as I was allowed so as not to attract attention to the garage, for fear that Mr. Thir might come back.

"I'm not looking at you any different." He threw his hands in the pockets of his jumpsuit, which was only half-way on. He had a t-shirt on, covering his chest, the rest of the orange mess of cloth hung messily at his waist. I couldn't blame him. It's too hot for jumpsuits, even at night.

"Yeah you are."

"I think I'd know…"

"Maybe not," I flicked a stray tuft of hair that had come out of my ponytail out of my eyes.

"Whatever you say," he said, raising his hands in surrender. I liked that I won arguments around him tonight, but maybe he was just tired. I was too, we had been digging all day, but at least I got to sleep in until eight, he had to wake up at five.

"Alright done," I got up and dusted dirt off of my knees, handing him back the keys. He gave a nod of approval.

"Well done, Bella, I didn't think you'd actually go through with it.

"I told you I would, didn't I?" I said. Why was he so surprised that I went through with it. "I keep my word."

He looked at me but turned away and didn't say anything. That ticked me off, too. He's really beginning to annoy me, this Squid.

Not like the fish. Although I'm not really fond of calamari. Why would anyone think that eating little baby squids is cool? It's not. It's…blah.

Because that's the opposite of cool from now on.

"We should get back," Squid decided and I agreed wordlessly. "You can go to your aunt's cabin now I guess."

Thanks for the permission?

"You're not going to manage getting back on your own. "

Squid bit his lip and looked at the lights. "I can manage." But he was uncertain and I almost laughed. I figured this system out when I was eight years old and wanted to go for walks, pretending that there were hidden treasures in the pre-dug holes.

I was imaginative at eight years old. As if anything interesting could possibly be around this lake.

"It's fine. I'll walk you back."

We did the same dodging act back around the camp until we were free to walk in the dark.

By the time that I got back to the cabin, Aunt Lou had gone to sleep. I wasn't really sure what time it was, but personally? I was exhausted. I couldn't really even get to my bed so I opted to sleep right there on the couch.

Tomorrow, Aunt Lou would expect another hole. And I may as well be awake enough to give her a decent one.

**X-X-X**

"Which one of you did it?!" Mr. Sir roared in the Mess Hall. All of the boys stopped and dropped their forks to their plates.

"Did what?" someone from A-tent asked. Maybe it was Rob, I wasn't sure. Was that even his name? I got it right, didn't I? I can't remember, I was being obnoxious the last time so it didn't really register in my mind what his real name was.

"You know what!" Rawr, Mr. Sir. You're a lion.

Squid looked down at his food as did some other boys, but Mr. Sir's eyes locked immediately on the boy and I felt nervous all of a sudden.

He marched over to D-tent's table and grabbed Squid by the collar.

"It was you, wasn't it?!" He picked him up, shook him and shoved him onto the top of the table. X-ray looked like he wanted to say something but didn't know what. I couldn't decide where to look, Mr. Sir's outraged face or Squid's intimidated one.

"What do you mean?"

"You got a problem with the way I pronounce my words, boy??" He shook him once more and Squid's toothpick fell out of his mouth.

"No, Mr. Sir."

"How do I pronounce the automobile word again? How is it done? Teach me, Squid, cus apparently you know everything!" Mr. Sir's face was turning purple and I could tell this was going to be bad. This was going to be really, really bad.

I felt sick to my stomach.

"You want another bruise decorating your other eye?!"

"No, Mr. Sir," Squid's voice was shaking as he answered and I stood up and opened my mouth to say something but Mr. Sir shoved me back down, releasing Squid roughly in the process.

"Siddown, girl, I've had enough of you! You don't disrespect me in front of anyone anymore, I don't care who you're related to!" He rounded on me and I clutched the bench for support.

"Mr. Sir, man, take it easy," X-ray said, able to tell where this was going.

"Who was it, Missy? You were out late. Who did it?" He hissed at me, grabbing my arm. Ow. Ow ow ow let go owww you're hurting me.

Ow. Ow. MR. SIR WHAT THE HELL?

"I don't know!" His grip tightened on my arm. "I don't know, I don't know what happened," I cried.

In front of 93 boys, Mr. Sir was going to kill me. It was going to happen. I was dead. I was going to have the fate that I thought Squid was going to get with the hole and the burying and that stuff.

That was going to be mine.

He grabbed my other arm and shoved me against the back of the table so that the side went into my back. "You come with me."

He picked me up and led me out of the Mess Hall.

Shit. Ow. Oh God.

"You see this?"

I looked down. We were at his truck. The words that I carved messily into the side of his car were there for all the word to see. 'This is not a ve-hi-cal.'

I shook my head. "Maybe you should look closer." He squatted down, roughly grabbing me and pulling me with him. "See? Read to me what that says, yeah?"

I shook my head.

"I think you should." His grip tightened.

"It. It says this is not a ve-hi-cal," I uttered.

"That's right. Your boyfriend corrected me on that, but I wonder. I think you had a problem with the way I was saying it too, right? You worked together, I think."

"It wasn't us, Mr. Sir."

He released my arm roughly and I got up off the ground as he stormed around to the left side, sitting in the drivers seat.

"I'm going to tell the warden about this. She won't be having any of it," he said. "And you disrespect me in front of those boys one more time, see what happens."

I looked down at the bruise on my arm. It was forming, but it definitely wasn't enough to be able to accuse Mr. Sir of anything. I wasn't really willing to do that anyway.

Mr. Sir and I have always been at odds with each other. The thing is, that he clings to his power, but I am still favored by the Warden because…well, obvious reasons. I could handle myself, though. I didn't feel like bothering her with little stuff like this. So Mr. Sir was an asshole, what else was new.

"You okay?" Stanley asked as I was heading back to…I don't even know where. D-tent, maybe? It'd be the easiest option.

"Yeah, it's no big deal," I said, looking down at my arm--only a red hand mark, nothing serious.

"Are you sure?" Stanley asked, concern apparent in his voice. I shrugged. Luckily the bruise wasn't forming yet, so it really wasn't a big deal.

"It's honestly not," I said. It really wasn't. No one had to get dramatic about it, Mr. Sir was into theatrics. I wasn't going to tell Aunt Lou. It wasn't necessary.

The way it went down seemed way worse than what happened. I know deep down inside, Mr. Sir was a happy boy who just needs to be loved.

Definitely deeper than 5 feet.


	8. Kind of Purdy

**8. I think I'm kind of Purdy, Don't you?**

The heat was enough to wake me. I got up soaked in sweat and groaned. This had better not last so long. I hate this non-functional air-conditioning thing.

"Bells," Aunt Lou called from the kitchen. "You awake yet?"

I took two deep breaths before answering. "Yeah, Aunt Lou."

"Good. I have a job for you," she said, coming into the room with her hands on her hips, her red curly hair pulled back into a braid. "C'mon honey, eat some breakfast."

"Yeah, sure." I rolled out of bed and picked out something to wear for the day. I don't know how the boys did it. In jumpsuits, no less. I rubbed sleep from my eyes but the bacon from the kitchen did smell good. Actually, it smelled more than good.

I made my way to the kitchen where Aunt Lou had sizzled up some bacon, pancakes and eggs. I did love Aunt Lou, she easily made the best eggs in Texas. I ate hungrily, taking a few sips of milk between intervals.

"Hungry, aren't you?" Aunt Lou threw me an amused smirk and I shrugged.

"Been digging. Need to eat, I guess," I explained.

"You don't have to dig all week, y'know," she said and I felt myself relax in relief. I don't have to dig all week. Just one hole. I love my life.

Wait. Wait.

"You have a job for me?"

I hate my life.

"Well do you just want to sit around here all summer?" Aunt Lou quirked an eyebrow.

Yes.

"Oh that's right, you value work ethic or something stupid like that." I rolled my eyes and cleared my plate, washing the dish with a sponge.

"S'why this place is in operation. And what did I tell you about rolling your eyes?"

Cue big heavy sigh.

"Sorry, ma'am." I don't want to push Aunt Lou. She can get pretty nasty. I pulled my brown hair off my shoulders and into a messy bun when Aunt Lou grabbed my hand, giving me an appraising look.

"What is that on your arm?"

Oh shit.

"N-nothing, Aunt Lou," I stuttered. Why did I stutter? What could I possibly have stuttered for? I hate it when Aunt Lou makes me nervous. She could get anything out of anyone. I swear to God, she was the operator of a polygraph in a past life.

I didn't even really care if Mr. Sir got in trouble; he was a girl, anyway, when it comes to Aunt Lou. I mean, I could tell her, but…

Well. I could have some fun on my own accord.

"Don't you tell me nothing, young lady. What happened to you arm? Was it a boy? Did one of those hoodlums get rough with you? Because I'll teach them a lesson, which one was it? Actually, I'll teach his whole tent a lesson."

Rawr, Aunt Lou.

"It wasn't a boy, Aunt Lou."

"Then who was it!?"

Well, I was sort of insinuating that it wasn't anybody because we're the only two non-males within five hundred miles or so, that nobody did it?

I mean, I know that I was lying through my teeth and everything, but come on.

"It wasn't anyone, Aunt Lou, calm down. I got it the other day. I was down there digging and on my way to the water truck, I got up and put the shovel on the top of my hole, but it wasn't stable and it fell on my arm when I went to get up."

Well. That was a stupid lie. Please believe that, please believe that, please believe that….

"I don't believe you for a second."

Dammit.

"Bella, is there a reason you're lying to me?" Aunt Lou rounded on me. How did _I _end up getting in trouble for this!? What the hell?

"No, Aunt Lou, it's not a lie, I swear to God."

Well. Sorry Jesus.

Aunt Lou surveyed my stony face (was it stony? I hoped it was stony. Or innocent. I'd take both.).

"Fine. Put ice on it."

I reached into the freezer, allowing the door to cover my face as in a way of trying to hide a victorious grin. It's not easy to win against Aunt Lou. I guess she was distracted by something.

"I need you out of the house. Go fill up the canteens today; Mr. Sir, Pendanski and I need to discuss something."

"What?" I asked, semi curious, but also bored. What on earth could they possibly talk about? Flannel shirts and stylish cowboy boots? No thanks….

"Excuse me? I don't believe I told you to ask questions," Aunt Lou said in a no nonsense voice. I sighed.

"Sorry, ma'am."

"Good." She tossed me the keys to the water truck. "Make your rounds. Hang out somewhere. Be back by dinner, we should be done by then."

"Whatever," I muttered and walked through the screen door, making my way down the porch steps and walking to Mr. Sir's shed to get his 've-hi-cal'.

"So girlie, you decided to take my property for a spin?" Mr. Sir leered, just because he could. I suppose he understood the fact that I wasn't going to be a five year old and cry to mommy, so he thought he could scare me. Wow, back up, a fifty-something year old man and his security-blanket of a truck. I'm frightened.

"Yup," I said in an indifferent voice.

"Whatcha gonna do this time?"

"Probably strip the paint off of it."

"Touch that truck one more time and there'll be more consequences than you could possibly imagine."

I looked up at his face and stuck out a finger, poking the side of the truck. "Oh oh oh, look at this? Look, I'm touching it, look at that. Oohhh see that? Oh now I'm not touching it," I retracted my finger. "Oh there I go again, look, oh jeez, oh jeez what will we do!?"

"Get smart with me, girlie, I dare you," he said, looking frustrated.

"The square root of 64 is 8."

He looked like he didn't understand what just went on and I rolled my eyes. He probably didn't. I probably just educated him for the day.

Whatever. He dared me. What was I supposed to do?

I climbed into the nasty looking truck with the seats with actual holes in them so that the squishy Styrofoam type stuff that fills said seats was sticking through messily. I attempted to push the Playboys out of view (they weren't even new Playboys. At least spring for the extra cash, Mr. Sir, c'mon man.) but the stash was too bountiful so I had to settle for averting my view from the cover girl of 1984. (Her interests include taking long hot baths showered in rose petals, writing erotic novels, and caring about animals. I'm not sure how the last one ties in. I'm a little scared.)

First stop was A-Tent.

I parked the truck, turned off the ignition and stepped out, wiping my hands on my jean shorts. It was so hot that my hands were beginning to sweat as they were attached to the steering wheel—something that I wanted to keep minimal contact with because, really, what could possibly be on Mr. Sir's steering wheel? What does he touch? Gross.

"Hey baby, how you feeling?" and other greeting similar to that reached my ears. I rolled my eyes.

"Call me 'baby' one more time, and I'll conveniently break the spigot," I threatened, putting my hand on it For the most part, they shut up.

"Hey, sexy," a familiar looking boy stepped up.

"Hello Jackson," I muttered, uninterested. The boy behind him snorted and the boy whose canteen I was filling—whom I had dubbed 'Jackson' for the day—looked disgruntled.

"_Rob._" Yup. He was doing that whole 'lets speak slowly because clearly she's an idiot' thing.

"Is that what you did to get here? I'm so sorry, stealing is a demeanor, y'know." I filled the canteen and shoved it roughly back at him. He glared daggers at me.

"I've had enough of you," he said, his tone almost reaching a growl.

"I'm sorry, when did you even have _any _of me?" I asked tartly. The boy's eyebrows lowered, apparently more pissed off than I thought. Whatever, didn't bother me.

"You know what, girlie? I might take that to heart."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, wondering what this could possibly mean to me anyway.

"Yo, I.V., move the hell out of the way, I'm thirsty as fuck."

Good vocabulary, these boys have.

"See you," he looked me up and down and returned to his hole, leaving me to fill the canteens of the boys behind him.

"Hopefully not," I muttered.

Wait. I vaguely remember Squid saying that his nickname was 'Donkey' wasn't it?

Maybe he got it wrong.

**X-X-X**

By the time I had gotten to D-tent, I had forgotten all about Josh and the other A-tent idiots. X-ray stepped up and thanked me for the water, Armpit flicked my head and smiled for some unknown reason when he received his canteen (I'm guessing as a gesture of thanks).

"Yo, what up Spit-Fire?" Zigzag asked and I smiled, making small talk with the rest of the boys. Squid stepped up and I filled his canteen.

"You guys look exhausted," I mentioned, surveying the entire group.

"S'hot."

"No way, really?"

"Dunno, I thought I saw a cloud before."

"Hallucinations are fun."

Squid looked over my shoulder and surveyed the keying job and gave a half-smile.

"So what'd your aunt do to Mr. Suck?"

"Clever name."

"I thought so." Squid looked down at my bruise and I made my best effort to put my arm behind me, busying myself with the spigot. I'm fairly certain he only got a glance if at all, because he didn't mention anything.

"She didn't do anything," I told him as I filled Magnet's canteen, who stepped up, growing impatient with Squid, muttering something half-Spanish with displeasure apparent.

My bad, Mag.

I returned his canteen to him and Squid stayed in his place, simply taking himself out of line.

"She didn't say anything." he repeated, looking shocked.

"I didn't tell her, so no, she didn't say anything," I explained, keeping myself facing sideways so that the bruise wasn't so visible.

"You didn't tell her?"

"Do you always have to be told things twice?" I asked offhandedly. He shrugged.

"If they're stupid things, it takes me a bit to process." I made a sour face at this comment.

"How do you know that it was stupid?"

"How do you figure it's sane?" he counters. "He was a jerk to you."

"He was a jerk to you, too," I pointed out. "I didn't see you do anything about it."

"There is a major status jump between you and me," Squid answered logically. I shrugged. I guess he was right and everything, but I still didn't believe that Mr. Sir was right to treat either of us like that.

"So you're just going to let him get away with it?" Squid asked, incredulously. I could see that he was questioning my sanity.

"Nope," I answered simply. Did he really think I was that stupid? Should I be insulted?

Okay, well he clearly didn't get it because I turned back to him and the 'what the hell do you mean' face had been permanently painted on him. I looked at him, wondering if he was considered a hypocrite for questioning my intelligence but he looked like a little bit of a dumbass at the moment.

I hate boys. You always have to spell things out for them.

"Karma's a bitch," I answered, as Caveman came up to me. Okay so I didn't really have a plan formulated, yet. But I decided that this was my battle to fight. "Hey, Stanley."

"Hey, Bella, how're you?" He smiled. Squid shrugged, feeling that this was his cue to leave. At this point, the stupid water spigot decided to be difficult. Stanley watched me struggle and tried to help but I waved him off and used two arms to try and twist the rusty crap piece.

Oh. Oh boy.

I watched his eyes grow wide. "Bella what--?"

"S'nothing," my other hand flew to the large bruise on my other arm and Stanley gently tugged it away, taking in the injury on my small forearm.

"It doesn't look like nothing," he said with an increasing frown and pitying puppy dog eyes. Aw.

"It's fine, really, you don't need to worry about it," I mumbled.

"Who did it?" he inquired, a bit of force in his tone. Aw he was so sweet, it made me want to melt and give him a bear hug.

"No one did it, I bumped into the door pane." Well, that one was way more believable, why didn't I use that one this morning?

"I don't believe you," Stanley answered soundly.

What the hell? Are they in this together? Were they polygraph partners?

Screw you guys, I'm never lying again.

"It's fine, Stanley, relax, don't worry about it," I muttered, giving him back his canteen. He looked at me once more and returned to his hole. I hopped back in the truck and headed back, tired and thankful that Aunt Lou didn't take too long. Once I rolled up, she and Dr. Pen and my best friend were just getting back into the house. Aunt Lou smiled warmly at me.

"Hey, honey, how were the rounds?" she asked. I shrugged. How were they supposed to be?

"Thrilling," I answered. I guess that was an appropriate answer?

Aunt Lou continued to smile while I felt Dr. P trying to assess why I was so happy to go and do rounds.

"Well I'm glad to hear that," she said, ignoring Pendanski.

"Yeah, me too," Mr. Sir agreed. I smiled brightly at him.

**X-X-X**

"You gonna dig today?" Aunt Lou asked me the next day. I groaned.

"Too hot. Staying in." Not like it was much better inside what with the air conditioning broken. But at least this way, I wouldn't have to work.

"Okay honey, but don't put it off because then it'll be a real burden when you eventually get around to it," Aunt Lou warned. I rolled my eyes.

"Like it isn't already?" I murmured and shifted over in my bed.

"I heard that."

"You always do."

"I'm going out. Have to go down to B-tent to give a lecture. They're getting a little restless. You want to do the water rounds again? Mr. Sir said the spigot's broken."

Not really.

Whenever Aunt Lou asks something like that it always means 'do the [insert command here]". I sighed.

"Course, Aunt Lou," I answered her, rolling out of bed. Oh boy, a heart to hear with Mr. Sir.

Yay.

I surveyed my nails. Dirt and dust had officially killed whatever I had left of them. I figured that when I'm bored I could at least paint them.

**X-X-X**

"How's that bruise coming along?" Mr. Sir asked the second he slammed the truck door. I shrugged.

"S'not as painful as other bruises I've experienced," I jabbed. Mr. Sir grunted, not really willing to say anything more. "Aunt Lou noticed it."

Mr. Sir's face paled. "What?"

"Well sure. I like the decoration, though," I looked down at my bruise. "It's got character."

"Mm." I could tell he was so scared of my aunt that he was about to wet himself. It was a little funny.

"Well, Bella, er…what did the Warden have to say?"

"Nothing much,"

That didn't give Mr. Sir much information, but that was sort of what I wanted. It was more fun to have him agonize it all day, waiting to see when Tiger Lou would pounce and rip his throat out.

I didn't feel like getting out of the truck and greeting my other friends at tents A-C, instead preoccupying myself with painting my nails. Once we reached D-tent, I was just applying the third coat to my hands when I got out of the truck and pocketed the polish.

"Hey Spit-fire."

"Sup, Spit-fire?"

Etc, etc,

"Hey," I greeted the group collectively, walking over to talk to them as they stood in line to get their drinks. X-ray first, and so on and so on. Squid got his canteen filled fairly early and took a swig before approaching me.

"So do you want to hang out in the wreck room later?" he asked casually. I raised a curious eyebrow.

"I dunno, I guess so, I don't have much else to do."

His eyes strayed to my bruise, which I didn't think to cover up this time and they widened. "Jesus, Bella, what the hell--?"

"Squid it's nothing," I attempted, but it was no use. He ran past me and tackled Mr. Sir to the ground. There was a lot of grunting and rude language and a few punches were thrown, but somehow Squid had lost the advantage and Mr. Sir hauled off and punched him in the stomach.

"Squid, stop it!" I attempted. But no use. Do guys lose their hearing when they're in a fight? They never listen. "Mr. Sir! Leave him alone!"

"He knows what he's gettin'," Mr. Sir yelled. "This is how we deal with discipline issues here at Camp Green Lake."

One more punch. Struggling from Squid, but Mr. Sir definitely had the advantage. I couldn't stand it anymore, and as Magnet, Zigzag and X-ray pulled Squid away from Mr. Sir, I latched onto both of Mr. Sir's arms and dug my nails into him, scratching him and ripping at his skin as hard as I could.

The howling that came from it echoed throughout the dry desert and I wondered what I did as he immediately released Squid and rolled to the ground in agony.

All seven campers and I looked down at the writhing Mr. Sir. I backed up unconsciously away from the man in front of me and Squid put his arms on my shoulders, Stanley not far behind him.

I looked down at my nails, which weren't fully dried yet. And then I took out the polish that I took carelessly from Aunt Lou's nightstand, a blood red concoction.

"_Try adding a little venom next time," _

Good call, Aunt Lou.

**X-X-X**

I went back to the wreck room, making sure that my nails were fully dry and sat myself down on the top of the pool table where Stanley, Zero and X-ray were playing.

"That was some interesting bullshit you pulled today," X-ray said casually, cleaning his glasses on his orange jumpsuit.

"I owed him."

"Owed who? Squid or Mr. Sir?" Stanley asked, shooting the six ball into the pocket.

"Both, for different reasons obviously." I swung my legs as I watched the passersby in the wreck room. I got bored soon in the room where the tv was broken and there were too many people in here for whatever cool air that existed to circulate properly. The night was settling in, which meant that there would be a little relief outside. I said goodbye to X-ray, Stanley and Zero, nudged Armpit and Zigzag who were sitting on the couch and nodded to Magnet on my way out. Squid didn't come to the wreck room, but it didn't really matter. I'd run into him tomorrow and wouldn't be so exhausted so I'd be able to give him a better 'thank you'.

Except for the fact that my life is never so planned out. I was about ten feet away from the wreck room on my way back to my Aunt's cabin when I bumped into Squid.

No really. I bumped into him. It actually hurt my nose.

"Oof."

"Shit."

…We have to stop with that sort of reaction around each other. Perhaps a more painful way of greeting would be best.

"Hey," he said, smiling down at me. Hey no toothpick! I'm proud. Actually, I'm kind of curious to see where it went.

Oh. It's behind his ear. Never mind.

Can't have a Fish boy without his accessories.

"Hey," I responded. "Um. I owe you a thank you."

Actually I owe him a lot of thank yous but we'll start with this one.

"No problem."

"No uh…you seem to always get hurt and its normally because of me. Unless you like having wars with Mr. Sir."

"Well it was kind of fun," Squid said, shrugging and I half-laughed. Sense of humor was enjoyable.

There was a pause, and he adjusted the dirty baseball cap on his head. "You're a good friend, Squid," I told him finally. He may or may not have blushed, but it was too dark, which ticked me off a little because the sight of Squid blushing would have been so priceless.

"Yeah well. It was nothing."

It was a punch in the stomach, but that's alright.

I smiled, but it left my face for a moment when I looked up at him and saw that same guarded expression he kept up. Ugh, Squidface, I thought we were making progress. You are so irritatingly hard to read.

What the hell, what's wrong with him?

I like to think that I'm a fairly open-minded person, right? Right? Yeah I thought so. So what was the deal with him? I thought friends were supposed to be cool with each other and be able to talk. Maybe that's just girls. Maybe only girls do that.

Whatever. Guys should break the gender barriers.

Like right now. Squid, you should be a rebel.

He stood there, looking at me, waiting for a response. Oh. That's right. Conversing. Gotcha.

"So are you intending on being a knight in shining armor or something when you get out of here?" I asked, thinking back to the formal 'kiss on the hand' thing with a nostalgic eye roll.

"I thought your aunt told you that wasn't polite," Squid reprimanded with a smirk.

"Lucky she's not here," I responded pointedly. He nodded, apparently this was fair enough for him.

"Armor would be too heavy and I don't like horses," Squid dismissed.

I shrugged. "Whatever, stop practicing, then. It only gets you in trouble."

He raised an eyebrow. "How am I practicing?"

"By tackling Mr. Sir and trying to defend my girlish honor," I explained, as if this was not obvious. Squid opened his mouth in protest.

"I don't do that for you. I do that for the sheer pleasure of tackling him."

"Why? Because he sometimes has a toothpick in his mouth and he puts the entire concept of toothpick chewing to shame?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. He gave me a stern look.

"Hey. Don't knock the toothpick. It's a science." He took the toothpick that he had from behind his ear and stuck it in his mouth.

Whatever makes you feel good, Squid.

"Well I guess I _do _need you to be my knight, then," I said with a shrug. He looked a little surprised and shifted the toothpick from one side of his mouth, allowing a smirk—the one that I hate because it's ridiculously unnecessary, y'know?—to grace his dirt-stained face.

"Why's that?"

"So that you can save me from choking on the massive amounts of bullshit you're shoving down my throat."

I looked down at my watch and realized that if I wasn't back inside the house in about five minutes, my life would end courtesy of Aunt Lou and since Squid wasn't allowed in the cabin, there would be no one to come to my rescue. I turned away and heard him half-laugh at the remark that I made.

"Spit-fire, you slay me. Or something along those lines," Squid muttered just loud enough so that he knew I could hear him. I turned back to face him, walking backwards as I did.

"I'm really good at fairytales, I guess."


	9. Of Dirty Jokes and Pick up Lines

**9. Of Dirty Jokes and Pick up Lines**

Delivery guys are dumbasses.

"For the last time, I'm not _sure _where she is!"

"Well then I can't install."

Fuck. You.

"Look man, I know this is hard for you to comprehend," I started, looking down at my poor little portable fan, which was running low on battery power and begged for a reprieve. It seemed to strike the air with exuberant effort and all I could think at that moment as I stood face to face with the air-conditioning Satan was what kind of sick sense of humor does this guy have to withhold my A.C. from me when clearly my little rinky-dink fan is going to die at any moment (and once it falls to the Texas heat, so does a good portion of my will to live). "But look around you. There are very few places that Aunt Lou could have run off to, okay? So I'm not trying to pull some bullshit with you. Just let me sign for the thing."

"Policy rules, little lady. I'll be in the car." He gave me a smug look (and what the hell, who gave him permission to call me 'little lady'? I feel like I should knee him in the nads or something) and headed over to his car.

His car had air conditioning.

"I hope it runs out of gas!" I call out angrily, stomping my foot on the porch.

Yeah. And when he comes crying to me for water, _see if I'll give it to him. _Let's just see how his policy rules would help him then!

I kicked the door frame like a child, frustrated and run over in search of someone—anyone—who would know where my aunt is so that she could get back here and sign for the damn air conditioning.

"Pendanski!" I cried. Heel boy. Stay.

"Yes Miss Frecia?" I found it funny that this grown man was calling me by my last name. My mother didn't take my dad's last name; she kept 'Walker'. Can't blame her. 'Frecia' kind of sounds like a soft drink doesn't it? Like 'Fanta'.

"Ugh, Dr. P., we've been through this, please just call me Bella. Or Isabella. Or Bells. Or something to that effect, but don't make me out to be a beverage."

"A what?"

"I have my reasons. Anyway where's Aunt Lou?"

"I haven't seen her. Actually, no, that's not true; I would check with Mr. Sir, she was with him before."

"Oh good." I waved brightly and looked over towards the small cabin that is Mr. Sir's lair.

Can you hear the dramatic theme music? I can.

"—and we don't have that kind of money."

"But the machinery would make it go so much faster, Lou—"

"I'm not interested!"

Whoa. I haven't heard Aunt Lou snap like that in a while. I inched closer as they remained oblivious to my presence and decided that now was as good a time as any to improve my eavesdropping skills, which were already up to par.

"So what do you want to do, Lou, huh? At this rate, we're nowhere near it."

"Make them work faster."

"There's only so much you can do in a day, Lou."

"Dammit Marion!"

Marion? No shit. Ha, oh wow, his parents really couldn't stand him as a child. Maybe they thought it was a girl and they were just supremely disappointed but had the name picked out so they decided to use it anyway.

"I'm being realistic, here, Lou!" From the way it was said, I could tell that Mr. Sir totally sprayed my Aunt with spit. "Consider the equipment."

Oh. Oh I sense a dirty joke coming on…

"I don't see why this has to be so hard for you."

Oh Lord.

"Well I'm sorry that I'm not able to measure up."

So. Pervy. Cannot. Function.

"I'm not spending any money on this," is what she said.

"All I'm saying is that that way, I can get the job done."

Excuse me while I go die now.

"We're not talking about this anymore. The last thing we need is for any outside sources to get in here and start tearing the place up. I couldn't think of anything more that would attract the government's attention. And why are you wearing long-sleeves?"

That's when my mind resurfaced from the sex-infested gutter that society raised me to adapt to and I poked my head upwards so that I could peer in through the window. Mr. Sir was, in fact, wearing long sleeves.

"S'cold."

Wow. Good one. You are amazing under pressure, Marion, well played.

"Excuse me?"

Oh you're gonna get it now.

"Well you see, yesterday—"

Oh fuck, what are you doing, dude, I didn't rat you out!?

I nearly killed myself to get into the office just as he was finishing the sentence that involved 'Bella' and 'nails'.

"Tattletale," I muttered, sincerely put-off. That's _so_ below the belt, Mr. Sir. Seriously.

Aunt Lou turned around and stared at me. "Bella, how interesting, I was just talking to Mr. Sir about you."

"Yeah, Lou," Marion looked positively giddy that I was about to get yelled at. Ugh. "Yeah, look what she did to me!" He rolled up his sleeves and I have to say, I was quite impressed with myself. The swollen, purple and red soars on his arms are angry and defensive looking as he put them on display. I had to catch myself from smiling.

"Well, Bells, I'm surprised."

"He bruised me!"

"She keyed my car!"

"Did not!"

"Did so! You and that Squid kid!"

"We—hey, you said 'Squid kid'!"

"So what?"

Super hero, obviously….

"Go take your Viagra!"

"Enough!" Mr. Sir and I both fell silent as my Aunt looked back and forth between us, positively pissed. I gulped. "Now let me make one thing very, _very_, clear," she murmured as she walked over to Mr. Sir. "Don't you _ever _lay one finger on my niece, or you'll get much worse than those baby scratches are we clear?"

Mr. Sir paled and the sweat that broke out on his forehead definitely didn't have anything to do with the heat.

"And you," she rounded on me and I braced myself. "Don't ever lie to me again. If he touches you ever again, I want you to come straight to me, do you understand? I have a different way of dealing with Mr. Sir."

I swear Mr. Sir was going to wet himself.

"Er…right." Oh, okay, no punishment for me. "The air-conditioning guys are here."

"Thank you, Bella. Go tell them I'll be there in a moment. Oh and one more thing," she added as I was heading out the door. I stopped and turned around. "You're not digging with D-tent anymore."

"What? Why?!" I asked, alarmed. Please don't stick me with someone else, Aunt Lou.

"You're with A-tent now."

"Why?" I repeated, this time almost whining.

"You're getting too friendly with those boys. I don't like it. You're out there to dig, not form a new personality, I don't like their influence. They're delinquents."

"But Aunt Lou—!"

"Excuse me?" Her voice was so dangerously low and her tone so sickeningly sweet that I bit all my protests back with difficulty.

"Never mind. A-tent, ma'am. Got it." I stuck my hands in my jeans pockets and began walking back, but not before I got the pleasure of hearing a satisfying '_slap' _sound and the howling cry of the he-she Marion.

"Why'd you do that Lou!?"

"She's right; it was never pronounced ve-hi-cal, learn how to speak," she said, almost disgusted.

I do love Aunt Lou sometimes.

**X-X-X**

"Listen up. Mostly everyone's seen her around, but I will make this short and sweet. This is my niece, Bella. She will be digging with you. Do not touch her. Do not try to pull anything on her. Do not think that she cannot outsmart you because she can and will. Introduce yourselves and dig. That's the only contact I am allowing, are we clear?" Aunt Lou's spiel with A-tent was much more intimidating than the one with D-tent.

"Red," a ginger came forward and said. I guess this is his way of introducing himself. Red's the leader? Cool, I guess.

"I.V." oh, my favorite jackass.

"Axel." As in Rose?

"Lump."

There were three others but I didn't really care enough to learn their names as they muttered them.

All I wanted to do was dig this stupid hole and get out of here. As my shovel broke the ground, I heard the various snickers which were clearly meant to express a sense of disbelief that a _girl _could dig.

Bitches.

It just made me work faster. I was down to three feet when they had barely accomplished one and a half. I.V. in particular, watched more than he dug which was way too unnerving for my liking. Get your eyes off of me, I don't like them there, I don't like them near me, get them away from my dirt, I hate you, leave me alone, shut _up_ and get away from me!

I had to give them credit. The slew of pick-up-lines were interesting. Stupid as hell and would never work on the sluttiest of all girls, but still very interesting. A few gems from Axel included 'Do you know what winks and screws like a tiger?' coupled with a wink. I asked if it was a tiger with an eye twitch. Axel looked at me like I was retarded. Later once I asked if someone had the time, Axel stepped up his game again and countered with the clever, "Yeah, I do baby, but do you have the energy?"

So smart, this boy. That was just hilarious.

It went on like that all. bloody. day.

By the time that the water truck rolled around for lunch, I was almost done.

"Enjoying your new tent-mates, Miss Frecia?" Dr. Pendanski asked jovially. I threw him a withering look.

"Yeah, they're charming."

Cue snickers….

"Good! I'm glad to see you're making friends." He peered over my shoulder and raised his eyebrows. "And progress."

"Yeah, well it's what I'm supposed to do, isn't it?"

"Yes ma'am."

I continued working diligently, which reminded me of D-tent…ugh I want to get away from these A-tent Assholes….

"So, Princess, you think you're too good for us?"

I guess JoelLeeBrianShawnDerrickMoron had enough of my attitude towards him. You know, the one where I made it clear I want nothing to do with him.

"Yup," I answered plainly.

Well, it was an honest answer….

"Hear that, boys?" I.V. stopped shoveling and turned to the rest of his posse. "The D-Tent whore thinks she's too good for us."

My grip tightened involuntarily as I became increasingly pissed with CharlesBradTonyGavinJaredIgnoramus. He snickered as he noticed.

"What's the matter? Nervous because 'whore' is too polite a title?"

"Say it one more time," I threatened under my breath. "See what happens."

A chorus of 'oohs' clearly meant to egg me on was heard from around the area.

"What's a little girl like you going to do?" He said snarkily. I took a deep breath and counted to ten because, really, this wasn't worth my energy. I was basically done, anyway, why would I want to start something now? Sure I finished behind Lump and Postal, but I could still get away from Red, Axel, I.V. and whoever else.

I looked down, shoveling four more piles of dirt out of my hole, measured it, lifted myself out and spat in it.

All of the boys in the tent looked at me like I was stupid.

"What?"

"Who the fuck spits in their holes?" Red jeered. I shrugged. I guessed it was just a D-tent thing.

"I do."

"Shoot, and I thought they sent people here to teach them manners," Axel taunted. I blushed a little bit because that is true, I just thought around the camp it was pretty much accepted that you're finished, you spit.

Oh well. At least I could take a part of D-tent with me. And that was good, right?

I dragged everything back to the cabin; my feet, my shovel, my will…it was all lagging behind my exhausted body. I chucked my shovel in the vicinity of the library, too tired to actually make it all the way over there.

X-Ray was the first person I saw, and I saw him give me a confused look even beneath the massive amount of grime on his glasses, which clearly asked 'Where were you?'

I shrugged as if to say 'Don't worry about it' because really, I didn't feel like explaining to X that I was in exile for not telling on a perv that I injured while trying to break up a fight between him and Fish boy.

Dinner wouldn't be for another hour or so, so I headed into the wreck room, relaxing on a crappy chair. There were a few boys who were finished with their holes playing foosball or pool or watching the broken tv in the corner.

I sat down and closed my eyes, trying to find peace in this environment I was thrown in. Seriously. How did these boys do it every day?

The mind boggles.

So much so that it is so confused that it doesn't even know the definition of 'boggle' anymore. Want to know why? Because it is boggled so much.

Boggle.

What a weird word. Who on earth came up with that? Boggle. It reminds me of 'google' but it must have been invented before that. Or maybe at the same time. Maybe all 'oogle' words were invented at the same time.

I bet you Shakespeare invented those words. He was always doing weird shit like that.

"Hey baby cakes."

I hoped to God one of these boys swung the other way and his life partner was standing behind me.

RathboneJakeShawnJoshJacksonBrettBenPercyShithead was standing over me. I closed my eyes again, attempting to ignore him.

No…doesn't JackJasonCoreyAnthonyArtemisAristotleSebastianSlutbag know what's good for him by now?

"Come on pretty, don't do that to me, I know that you want to get in the I.V."

Oh that was so clever. Please, let me pine for your wit.

Ignore….

And then I felt him touch my arm.

I grabbed his wrist swiftly and shoved it away, my eyes snapping open and I immediately stood up. "Touch me again, asshole, see what happens." Ew I just reminded myself of Mr. Sir.

A lot of boys looked over, interested at what was about to unfold.

A smirk appeared on the boy's face and his brown eyes lit up at the challenge. "Well, since you insist…"

He grabbed my shoulders roughly. Does every male being in this place insist on bruising up my arms? Like what is it with this place? Are they all that screwed up?

Too bad for this kid. I was taught self-defense when I was little.

I shoved him off of me and he smirked a little bit more. "Whussamater, lovely? I think you told me to touch you, right? It was an invitation."

Creeper….

"Oh sure. Yeah. Go right ahead." I spat, as if I forgot about what a lurker this guy must be. He advanced towards me and attempted to kiss me, but I dodged it.

This boy looked angry and made a lunge towards me. "Come on baby, don't be like that."

Oh boy. Oh boy. I was against the pool table surrounded by amused boys who had no intention of helping me out.

See, this could be a little bit of a problem. I could easily take on RossLeroyKevinPrestonJackass and maybe one of his friends if it was necessary, but five or six?

A little bit harder.

"Um."

Oh lovely. I looked around for a friendly face. Anyone.

I think God hates me by now. It's seriously proven.

"Look, water!" It was my last shot, but what the hell? Although to be honest, I didn't even think KevinJoshuaSocratesWhoreface was that stupid.

"Where?" Him and about three of his friends turned around so fast I could have sworn that they got whiplash.

I had no time to contemplate their utter idiocy because I was high tailing it out of there.

"Wait! Come back!" And the joke is that I almost stopped, scared—yes, _scared_—that it was the others. My legs just carried me faster. "Bella!"

And it was then that I recognized the voice.

It was Zero.

Seriously? I thought he didn't talk.

"What?" I asked, not in a rude way, but a sincerely shocked way.

"Sorry. He's a jerk," Zero said once he caught up to me. I tilted my head to the side and smiled at the boy.

"I noticed," I muttered dryly, my eyes straying back to the wreck room.

"I just…we're not all jerks," Zero said quietly. "But…Squid...."

"What about him?" I asked, raising my eyebrow in confusion. What was the deal with Squid, anyway? It's not like I was all about him just because I came to this bloody camp. Sure, he talked to me, but apparently so did Zero.

There was a weird part of me that was kind of annoyed at this whole 'let's couple Bella with Squid' but then there was an even bigger part of me that really wanted to know what Zero had to say about him. I mean, if it was worth the effort of him actually talking to me, it must have been good.

"He wasn't lying to you. He…likes fighting," Zero explained. "He's not that way. It's just how he…kind of is."

Well. That…didn't really make sense. I must have looked like I didn't get it, because Zero sighed and went on.

"He'll look for a reason, y'know? He'll defend you, he will. But I heard X-ray and Armpit talking; they're not so sure what that's gonna do to him. He's been trying—really trying—to not go back to that sort of stuff. Just…don't give him a reason, okay?"

I swallowed. Wow. I didn't…wow.

Zero nodded at me and I looked down at the dirt guiltily. I guess Fish Boy _has _been kind of violent since I got here. Well, Mr. Sir moreso, but Squid does kind of start it.

Actually…I kind of start it.

"Zero?" he turned around, already half way back to D-tent. "Thanks, man."

Zero nodded once again and turned back, scuffing his feet on the dirt. I had a feeling that that was going to be the only time that Zero would really talk to me that much.

Well at least I was right about one thing—if it was worth Zero talking to me, it must have been good.


	10. Babysitter

**10. Babysitter  
**

I just got out of the shower and ran a towel through my hair, the new tank top already sticking to my skin from excess heat. At least the air conditioning was _running _but that meant that I didn't have an excuse to act pissy anymore. I mean, anyone would act pissy here but this time I would need a better reason than 'I hate this place and I want to go home'. Repetition gets tiring.

"You're late."

Ugh.

"For what?" I asked lazily, deliberately standing in front of the new A.C. unit vent to cool myself down. The shower water was hot despite every cell in my body protesting. I needed to wash this entire mess of a day off of myself.

"Dinner. C'mere I need to talk to you." Aunt Lou set a plate down in front of me as I sat down at the table.

Oh crap, what'd I do now?

"What's been going on with you?" …Really? Beating around the bush? I've never seen this side of Aunt Lou. I can tell she wants to ask something or get somewhere with me, but not once have I ever seen her ease herself into the question.

"What do you mean?" I asked scooping mashed potatoes onto my plate.

"Why were you so upset that you had to leave D-tent?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Because the A-tenters are assholes."

"Watch your mouth."

"Sorry."

There was a brief silence and Aunt Lou put her fork down.

"Look, Bells, I'm going to be blunt with you—"

There it is.

"—I don't really like what this camp is doing to you."

I stared blankly. "What?"

"I don't want you to get too friendly with anyone here."

"I'm not…"

"You've become too attached to D-tent," Aunt Lou said firmly. Well, yeah, that was true. I shrugged.

"They're just nice, that's all."

Aunt Lou sighed and pulled her red hair back up. "Bell, you're not listening," she said quietly.

"That's not true, I am listening. You're saying that you don't want me to get too involved with anyone. You can relax, Aunt Lou, I'm not planning on getting into anything."

I ate quickly and cleared my plate, taking a roll from the basket and heading back to the room.

"He's out in a few months."

What?

I turned around. "Who?"

"You know who."

Well that sounds extremely ominous. "I don't expect him to stay here forever," I murmured.

"He doesn't live far from you."

…

"Why are you reading so much into this?" I asked, backing up and sitting back at the table. "Don't you think that if anything was going to happen by now it would have?"

"I'm thinking that you don't know what you're getting yourself into," Aunt Lou said calmly, ignoring my scrunched up face. "You're 16. And he's…"

"He's what?" I snapped, earning a warning look.

"He's Squid," she continued, "He's a criminal, honey. And you're not going to change that."

I didn't even know what to do with that. Because to be honest, I don't want to change him. Criminal or not.

I opened my mouth and then closed it again, trying to figure out how to respond, twiddling with my thumbs a bit. My aunt looked at me expectantly and everything, but this entire conversation was just so random and so…important at the same time, I guess, that it deserved a thoughtful answer.

"He's Alan," I finally came up with, "He's my friend. And you're not going to change that."

Without another word, I walked outside with my still-wet hair scrunching into tight waves in the summer heat and my aunt in my wake, not even bothering to say anything.

I walked aimlessly around. I didn't even go in the direction of the camp, really. Well, I started out going that way, but I then decided that walking in the early night among the holes with no one around was the weirdest sort of peaceful that I could ever ask for in that moment.

I sat down at the edge of some random hole after checking for snakes and lizards and lay there with my legs dangling and my eyes on the stars.

"It's way too early in the summer for shit to be this complicated," I muttered to absolutely no one, throwing my arms behind my head and stretching out.

"You're telling me."

The voice made me jump, which was really, really awkward because since I was lying down, I looked like I had a shitty form of a seizure.

"Why're you doing that?"

"Doin' what?"

"That creepy crawly thing in the shadows," I muttered, a little bit pissed but more embarrassed than anything. I don't like looking ridiculous in front of people. And looking ridiculous in front of him pisses me off because I need to save face.

"I own this land, Spit-fire, I move with the dirt," X-ray said, sitting down next to me. "Why are you out so late?"

"Should be asking you the same thing," I said as he attempted to clean his glasses on his dirty orange jumpsuit. And it wasn't that late. For him it was because they normally go to bed early, but for me it wasn't. I should have probably been exhausted, though, after today. It's very tiring dealing with idiots.

X-ray laughed a deep, throaty laugh.

"Saw you heading out here. Where were you today?"

"I've been exiled," I muttered disdainfully. This was so unnecessary, I didn't feel like repeating it because it sucked enough just thinking about it.

"To where?" He sounded shocked, but really he had a right to be; there were only so many places you could be exiled to in this dump considering it was an exile within itself.

"To the wonderful stomping grounds of A-Tent," I spat. X-ray shuttered. I've never seen X-ray shutter.

"You scared of them?" I sniggered. He scowled and scoffed at the same time, because he was multifaceted like that. Didn't know this camp taught them talent.

"No. They're such a joke. No one here respects them."

"Ah, no street cred?"

"None," X-ray affirmed. "Don't say 'street cred'," he added as an afterthought.

"Duly noted."

"So…you think you're coming back?" X-ray asked slowly. I shrugged.

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On whether or not the escape is worth it," I said with a grin. He nudged me.

"You don't just bail on your tent mates. We gave you a nickname."

"Am I a dog with a collar now?" I asked. He laughed.

"Only if you want to be," he smiled. "C'mon girl, you're Spit-fire. You're a D-tenter. Putting you with A-tent isn't cool."

"Nothing's cool around here," I said sardonically. He shrugged.

"So what would make it worth it for you to come back?"

I looked at him with an expression that made him sigh because he knew that I was going to give him so much crap for that. "Awwww does wittle X-ray miss me?"

"I won't if you keep talkin' in that voice."

I pinched his cheeks. "Wittle X-ray's soooo tough, yes he is! Yes you are! You're a big tent leader, oh yes!"

He swatted my hand away. "I hate you so much."

"Oh did I make you angry? You'll still share the shovels with me, won't you X? I mean you can't take away my toys! I'll get the warden to put you in time out."

"Enough, I get it," he said frowning. "All I meant was that it was weird not having you annoy us today."

"It was one day, X." I was pointedly ignoring that 'annoying' comment. I don't annoy them. I make the tent interesting. He's such a bullshitter. "And I only have to dig one hole a week anyway."

"You dug way more with us," he said, a confused look on his face, which then turned into a smile. Not the kind that would be friendly and nice, more of the kind that Cruella De Ville would wear after…I dunno, burning puppies or something like that.

She was a sick fuck, wasn't she?

I mean not that she completely burned them, that'd just be messed up even for her, but the point was that she killed them, didn't she? I mean, she would have if those puppies weren't so damn smart (and by the way, it was pretty sad that they could out do her, don't you think?). And why Dalmatians anyway? They totally needed their fur, maybe more than the other dogs. Back when I was convinced that I was going to be a vet when I grew up, I actually read somewhere that they can't survive anyway in even semi-freezing weather because their fur is so short. What kind of messed up chick would do that to a bunch of cute puppies?

Didn't matter. I didn't get to finish the thought anyway because I found myself being pulled into the sweatiest form of a noogie. "Aw Spit-fire, I had no idea how much you cared! You were willing to dig more with us because you just loved us _so _much!" Ow, Ow, OW his knuckles _hurt_. Forget the smell, I want my skull in one piece, please.

I could totally feel the dirt embedding itself in the clean hair anyway. Great. Now I needed another shower when I got home. This place hates hygiene. At least this way I could stay away from Aunt Lou for a while.

"Get _off_!" I struggled, knowing that my efforts were no use because, let's face it, months of digging haven't been lost on him. I swear to God if I had to die out here because of suffocation due to smell and loss of blood due to the cruelest form of scalping I will come back as a ghost and haunt X-ray for the rest of his bloody life.

He laughed. No. He _cackled_ as I tried to futilely move his arm. "I'ma girl!"

I was reserving that card for the time where I knew I had to be desperate, but there you go. He stuck it out for a good two minutes longer before finally releasing me.

"Oh my God," I breathed, cradling my neck and doing those yoga type moves where you roll it around and stuff. You know. To make sure that it wasn't broken or whatever. "So uncalled for."

"Was not," he said childishly.

"Was too."

Can you tell we're intelligent just by this conversation alone? I'm so brilliant with my wit overwhelming everybody around me. It's a gift, really.

"Anyway, did Donkey try to talk to you?" X asked. That reminded me…

"Okay everyone called him 'I.V.', what the hell is up with this whole thing?" What, one nickname isn't enough for these people, some of them have to be greedy little bitches and grab two?

"He's 'Donkey'. Trust me." X said wryly. "He's too much of an idiot to be anything else."

"So why not just call him Jackass?"

"Because we like to be cordial at Camp Green Lake," he said, grininng. I looked at him dryly for that comment.

"Kill yourself."

"Eh. Later. Too much to do now," he told me nonchalantly. I scoffed.

"You still didn't explain the 'I.V.' duel identity," I pointed out.

"He likes to call himself 'I.V.' because he claims that he sent a kid to the I.V. to get here." X-ray brushed it off.

"And he didn't?"

"No."

"How do you know?"

"I read his file."

I jumped about four thousand feet in the air. Actually that's an exaggeration. Not an exaggeration, really, more of a total lie. I didn't jump, I fell. Gracefully, or something I hope. But there I went. Right into a hole.

"Why do you people _do _that?" I was a little outraged and my knee hurt and I swear to God I thought that I heard something moving in the corner. Also it was pretty damn dark by now so I couldn't see and this whole thing was really bothering me and—

"Do what?"

"That! That creepy crawly thing in the shadows like that!" I said, practically throwing a tantrum. I hate boys. I hate D-tent boys. I hate A-tent boys more, but D-tent boys are irritating me at the moment.

I hate déjà vu the most, though. That was just mean.

Eh, maybe not. I don't hate déjà vu the most. I hate toothpicks the most.

"You had fair warning that I do that, you were with me the last time I did it." He threw the toothpick behind his ear (or at least I think he did—his silhouette made some sort of vague motion that indicated that sort of thing) and squatted down over the edge of the hole.

"The difference between creeping in the shadows to avoid getting shot by Mr. Sir while we key his car and creeping in the shadows just to see me fall into holes for your own amusement is very large."

"Stop complaining."

An awkward minute passed and he watched me and X watched him watch me and I watched X watch him watch me.

We did a round-robin thing. It's fun being coordinated.

For a vague second I wondered what a game of duck-duck-goose would be like with them.

"Um. No hand up?" I asked, wondering why he would just sort of sit there—squat there, actually—and look at me in the hole and _seriously _where the hell is that rustling noise coming from, I'm freaking out!

Squatting is a very awkward thing to do, don't you think? Like you don't ever want to squat for a really long period of time, it hurts your ankles. He's totally superhuman if he can just do that and allow it to feel comfortable.

He smirked. I looked at him and even through the semi-darkness I saw his lip curl. Ugh. What a brat.

I reached up and grabbed the neck of his t-shirt and pulled very hard, causing him to fall from his squatted position—NOT gracefully, I might add-and tumble into the hole with me.

"What the hell?"

"You smirked."

"Alright, I'll leave you two kids to it," X-ray said, kicking in dirt purposely as he went. I laughed openly because it all went in Squid's face and he did this thing like he had to sneeze but didn't really muster it up. I watched X walk away and Squid flicked my head because I guess he's an attention whore or something. I swatted at his hand and he laughed a little.

"So A-tent, huh?" I heard him ask, triggering a grumble from me. I crossed my arms across my chest and slid down against the hole, landing on the ground.

"How many times have you been hit on?"

"Too many to count." I'd rather not relive the moment, thanks.

He chuckled. Which was weird because I wasn't sure if I should crack a clown joke and make fun of him or be slightly offended that he laughed at my pain.

"Oh. Sure. Laugh it up now. But when my favorite boy totally takes advantage of me, you'll feel sorry for this entire situation right here," I warned. I have a feeling that he didn't take me seriously because his chuckle was up-ed a little bit in energy.

"C'mon Spit-fire, I'd never take advantage of you." He flashed me a grin and sat down beside me in the hole. I sighed.

"Think what you want, Squid," I said. "You are on the same level as anyone else around here."

"And Jackass is so much better than me?" he asked, totally disgruntled. I smiled because I liked that I got under his skin like that.

"I thought you boys at Camp Green Lake liked to be cordial," I mimicked. He shoved me which I hated because I had to put my arm out to steady myself.

"Feel free to shut up."

"I could do that but that would make the situation completely uncomfortable because it's difficult having a one-sided conversation with someone," I told him.

"I know. I live with Zero," he pointed out. I shrugged.

"Zero can talk when he wants to. You people just don't have anything interesting to say back."

He surveyed me. "You talked to him recently."

"Oh yeah. We're buddies." I smirked, but wasn't really willing to go too far into it considering what we actually talked about. I paused before continuing. "Hey, Squid?"

"Hmm?"

"You…don't have to worry about me, y'know."

He turned his head to look at me away from the wall that he was previously staring at, which I guess was extremely interesting.

"Yeah I do," he said, getting slowly to his feet, backing away with wide eyes.

I looked at him, my eyebrows lowered to indicate seriousness. Because at this point I didn't like being thought of as the damsel in distress, it was kind of annoying. Not only annoying, but it wasn't good. For him and me, really. It was one thing to try and lead him away from the thought that he always had to watch out for me. It was another thing to like it.

"No you don't," I told him, more force behind it. I began to shift around, attempting to get to my feet a bit clumsily because my legs were crossed beneath me. I was about to put my hand down but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me upwards so quickly that I swear my shoulder was pulled out of its socket.

"What're you--?" his arms were around my waist and he was lifting me up—which seemed ridiculously effortless for him—out of the hole where I landed unceremoniously on the ground in a mess of odd, spread-eagled limbs and 'oof'noises.

And that's when I heard an extremely loud hiss.

Oh shit.

He was out of there with lightening speed, taking my hand and running with only one glance back to make sure that I was keeping up.

He pulled me along until we were back at camp and when he thought it was safe, he let go of my hand and put his own on his knees, panting. I slumped down in exhaustion because, contrary to his belief, I don't have legs as long as his and they are most definitely not suited for running at warped speed.

"'The hell--?"

"Lizard," he got out, breathing heavily. "Yellow spots."

Oh.

There was more heavy breathing from the both of us and he put his arms on his head, walking around a bit.

"You—" breath. "don't think."

…I have to object to that, I think a lot.

"You—" pant. "don't just _stay_ _in holes_ in the middle of the night. Fall in, get out." Deep breath.

I was too tired to say something back, so he continued.

"I—"sigh. "Don't want you hurt. Or killed. That's all." He let his hands drop to his sides and looked utterly exhausted.

I stared at him and grabbed his hand, tugging him gently down with me. (See that, Squid? _Gently_).

"Thank you," I said quietly.

He nodded. "You don't need a babysitter," he said, staring forward at the lifeless camp. "I wasn't trying to be one."

I paused. "What were you trying to be?"

He looked at me. For a really long time. I didn't know why. And really? I don't think he knew either.

"Goodnight, Bella."

He got up and walked back towards D-tent and I watched him go the whole way. I did want an answer, but I didn't expect one. As predictable as I'd like to say that he is, he has a really extreme habit of surprising me.

I sat there for about ten more minutes, the light poles from the camp lighting up the ground so at least I could see what was going on, before dusting myself off and walking back towards the cabin.


End file.
